


Godzilla: King of the Wasteland

by DoctorpooandtheTURDIS



Series: Go, Go, Godzilla [9]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas, Godzilla (2014), Godzilla - All Media Types, Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorpooandtheTURDIS/pseuds/DoctorpooandtheTURDIS
Summary: A 'family reunion' gone wrong and a laptop stuffed to the brim with video games leaves five monsters human-sized, stranded, and in a post-atomic desert wasteland. Factions of all kinds are vying for power, fighting, lying, stealing, and through it all, the King of the Monsters is determined for only one thing:Get back home so he can tear El a new one for dropping them there.
Relationships: Godzilla (Legendary | MonsterVerse)/Madison Russell, Will Byers/Eleven | Jane Hopper
Series: Go, Go, Godzilla [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045095
Comments: 23
Kudos: 2





	1. Ain't That a Kick in the Head?

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Toon-Artist403 for helping me come up with this idea. 'Rex' is his Godzilla, pretty much the Showa incarnation with extra abilities, I hope to show them off the more we get into the wasteland.

“Oh… Shit.” Godzilla cursed, hunched over what looked like a massive television on wheels, with enormous, square shoulder pauldrons, long tubelike arms, and only a single wheel to move around. Well, that’s what it had been before, before the landing had busted it up something severe.

“Mother _fucker_.” Kong also cursed, looking around the dark, yet still very visibly entirely too large environment.

“Hey, Rodan, next time you’re seeing a marvel of technology…” Rex scowled. “YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!”

“Oh, right, right, blame this all on me!” Rodan gestured to himself theatrically. “I’m not the one who decided it’d be a good idea to drop us all here!”

Rex raised his hand, mimicking talking.

“Hey, you wanna do that again, to my face, and see what happens!?”

“Silence, both of you.” Mothra sternly commanded, looking over a hole in the ground.

“What’s that?” Godzilla inquired, tilting his head at it.

“It appears to be a shallow grave.” Mothra turned to him. “It looks like that robot was trying to dig up the poor fellow before… well, before we showed up.”

“Aw, shit, is he still alive?” Godzilla asked, walking over to look.

“Bluntly speaking, no.” Mothra gestured. “Having a group of people fall out of thin air onto your already damaged head is not conducive to survival.”

“Hm…” Kong sniffed. “Motherfucka”

Godzilla double took, gesturing at Kong. “Why the hell are you here!?”

“…mothafucker.”

Godzilla blinked, pointing. “Is that _all_ you say?”

Kong let out a long sigh. “Max teach new word. New word is funny. I use new word.”

Rodan leaned over to Rex. “Obviously he’s not going to be winning any Nobel Prizes anytime soon.”

Rex giggled, as Kong whipped around angrily.

Godzilla sighed, shaking his head. “Obviously, you’re here because El thought it’d be funny to make us squirm.” He turned around, back to face Mothra. “So, I noticed that everything here seems to be scaled so we’re human sized. Is that us, or-?”

“It’s this place.” Mothra answered. “Simply put, they grow things big here.”

“Big enough to fit us, right.” Godzilla nodded. “So that means the people, the buildings, the cars, the tech…”

“It should all be sized so we can fit in like most humans would.” Mothra blinked. “Well… perhaps not you.”

Godzilla scowled, crossing his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, well, to the native humans, you’d be about… eight to ten feet tall?” Mothra supposed.

“Oh, awesome.” Godzilla grinned, self-satisfactorily putting his hands on his hips. “Yep, even in a place where they grow them big, I’m still the biggest thing around.”

“Well, perhaps not for long…” Mothra knowingly muttered, having already correctly guessed that there were other things waiting to snap them all up.

A crunching and a slobbering sound caught his attention, causing Godzilla to snap over.

Rex was trying to _eat_ the dead guy they just found.

“Rex, no!” Godzilla shot over like a bullet, smacking his head away. “No, bad!”

“Ow, hey!” The slightly smaller one stumbled back, glowing angrily. “I’m not a dog! And I’m hungry!”

“Well, we’ll get you some actual food, but you don’t eat _dead people!”_ Godzilla pointed. “It’s not sanitary. Besides, the last thing we need is some farmer or something shooting at us because you’ve got bloody teeth!”

“This is… ‘Fall-Out.’” Rodan crossed his arms, shaking his head with a sigh. “The people are already probably going to be shooting at us.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right.” Godzilla blinked. “Goddammit El, why can you just pull us back!?”

“Presumably, she wants to see us squirm,” Mothra shooed Rex away from the dead person, searching up and down the body. “Meaning… they’ll want us to finish the storyline before she pulls us back home.”

“Great, great.” Godzilla semi-sarcastically muttered. “So, that means finding the asshat who killed _this_ asshat, and killing _him?_ ”

“Quite probably.” Mothra nodded.

“Great…” Godzilla shook his head. “Okay, so, work your mojo or something and make us all humans.”

“…the best I can do is vocal cords.” Mothra replied.

“What!?”

“You’re stuck as you are, for the most part!” Mothra defended herself, “Why turn the rest of us into giant humans and leave you as the singular monster!?”

“I-I would very much like to be-“

“Shut up, Rodan.” Mothra ordered.

“Alright, vocal cords, cool.” Godzilla shrugged. “So, what’s this guy have on him that make him such a target?”

Mothra looked the body over, pulling out a note from the pocket, written on yellowed paper that looked centuries old.

“Paper…” Kong grunted. “Scribbles…”

“Not scribbles, it’s a delivery order.” Mothra explained, reading the text. “For a package of an oversized poker chip made of… platinum.” She blinked, looking up. “Platinum wouldn’t be _that_ valuable in the post-apocalypse, would it?”

“You never know, the guy might just like shiny things.” Godzilla turned, looking to the dimly lit town below. A single road was running into it, the rest of the ruined, decayed houses built on dirt roads. There was a sign at what appeared to be the town’s outer limits, reading Goodsprings. “We’ll wait till sunrise, that way we don’t surprise them too hard and, you know, get shot. If everything’s to scale, I don’t want to find out the hard way their guns can hurt us.”

“Very forward thinking of you.” Mothra complimented, nodding. “Impressive.”

“Hmph, don’t get used to it.” Godzilla grumbled. “One more thing… if the short snippet we saw Madison play was any indicator, we’re gonna need something to carry all the random shit we pick up.”

“Ah, yes, I see.” Mothra rubbed her ‘chin.’ “Allow me to get back to you on that.”

And as they sat there, looking at the town below, none of them noticed Rex looking at the body, before taking it down whole.

\----------

The sun rose on a desolate, ruined nuclear desert. Mountains caused by the battering of countless nuclear warheads scraped the sky, as sandstorms blew endlessly from the uneven heating caused by the ruined ozone layer.

Nestled slightly out of the way in this vast, post-atomic desert, there was the town of Goodsprings. It was a small little town, even for a wasteland settlement, but the people who were there lived happily, for the most part. It was no Vegas, but it had a saloon, a graveyard, and a general store. More than enough.

Coming down from said graveyard, however, was a group of five. The settlers of the town would assume them to be the mutated creatures that called the wasteland home, but they were not.

The lead of this… strange party of people took point as he stepped onto the porch of the saloon, looking at the old man, half asleep in a rocking chair.

“Hi there.” The leader of the group addressed.

“Howdy.” The old man lazily responded. “What can Easy Pete do for you?”

“Uh… I’m looking for a guy, you may know him.” Godzilla questioned. “Guy in a fancy checkered suit, surrounded by a bunch a punks. They shot a… acquaintance of mine up on the hill over there last night. Is there anything you can tell me about them?”

“Hm…” Easy Pete grunted. “Yeah, I saw ‘em. Came into town yesterday for somethin’, real tight-lipped about it. Fancy Pants seemed to be the guy callin’ the shots, but that’s as much as I saw. Other folks might’ve heard something more.”

“Right, cool.” Godzilla nodded. “This place open for all, or do I need a password or something?”

Easy Pete snorted, finally looking up. His jaw dropped, and Godzilla swore he went sheet white. “Uh-“

“Relax, man.” He told the old guy. “We’re not gonna hurt anybody. I mean, we’re decent enough to hold a conversation with you.”

“Hm…” Easy Pete narrowed his eyes, relaxing. “Suppose so. Might wanna give some advanced warning. Lotsa jumpy people with guns in that building there, you know.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Godzilla walked past, ushering his followers along.

“One word of advice,” Pete threw over his shoulder. “You catch up with that man, you watch out. Got cold eyes, like a snake. Can’t be trusted, I’d say.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Godzilla replied, opening the door to the saloon. It was weird, having everything be in scale so he was human sized again, but so obviously not human.

Walking into the saloon, the strumming of an acoustic guitar, led by the voice of Marty Robbins singing about the Arizona Ranger with a Big Iron on his hip filled the air, along with the sound of people quietly chatting, drinking, and eating.

As soon as Godzilla crossed the threshold, he heard a round being chambered into a rifle, before he felt the barrel being pressed into the underside of his jaw and heard a dog barking.

“Hold it right there, scales.” A feminine voice commanded, upon Godzilla stopping. “Get! Get back!”

“Hey, lady, word of advice.” Godzilla rumbled. “You’d _really_ better hope the first one takes me out.”

“What the hell-?” The woman recoiled, still keeping her rifle level. “Did you- Did you just _talk!?”_

“Yeah, and he just got done holding a conversation with your old-ass excuse for a bouncer out there!” Rodan interjected, “So back off!”

The woman looked at the assembled gaggle of monsters, and slowly lowered her gun, allowing Godzilla to get a look at her.

“Jesus, there’re stories about talking Deathclaws, but… Christ.” She breathed.

“Yeah, whatever those are, I’m not one of them.” Godzilla replied, deadpan. He looked around, to the other patrons of the saloon, who were looking upon them suspiciously. “You guys wanna go back to drinking and eating, or should me and my merry band of idiots just get out of your hair?”

Mothra hit him in the back of the head for that.

“Ow, cunt!” Godzilla hissed, glaring at Mothra, who appeared suspiciously innocent. He shook his head, turning to the woman. “Look, my name’s Godzilla, this is Rodan, Mothra, Kong, and Rex.” He gestured to each one.

“Sunny Smiles.” The woman introduced herself, over the growling of her dog. “Cheyenne, stay! Don’t worry, she won’t bite unless I tell her to.”

Rodan blinked, pointing. “That’s not… there’s no way that’s your _actual_ name.”

“It is,” Sunny looked to him, with a glare, evidently indicative of how much bullshit she had to put up with over the years because of it. “And if you don’t like it, you can take it up with my gun.”

“Hmph.” Kong snorted in. “Boomstick.”

“Yes, Kong, those things do go boom.” Godzilla sighed, looking to Sunny. “Look, there’s a friend of mine up on that hill outside of town dead because of some dickbag in a checkered suit. We’re tracking him down. Is there anything you can do to help?”

“Huh, well…” Sunny leaned on the pool table thoughtfully. “I reckon I might’ve saw a folk like that. Didn’t stay long before he beat feet outta town though.”

“Really?” Mothra’s brow shot up. “Did you see where he was going?”

Sunny looked to her, dumbfounded. “All y’all can talk? Damn… But nah, I didn’t.” She regrettably shrugged. “I reckon Trudy probably saw which way they were running.”

“Oh, great.” Godzilla looked around. “Which one’s Trudy, then?”

Sunny shook her head. “She’s out right now. Won’t be back until later.”

“Well, shit.” Godzilla slumped over, scratching his head. “So, I guess we have to hang around here until she gets back.”

“You could.” Sunny shrugged. “Or you could head on over to the general store and stock up on supplies. You look like you need it.”

“Ah, supplies, yes, those.” Mothra coughed, looking through the bags she fashioned for everyone. “We don’t have money.”

“…Hm, well,” Sunny leaned on one leg, “I have some work that needs getting done. It’s not hard, but it’d go by with an extra pair of hands. First thing’s first, any of you know how to use a gun?”

The group of monsters looked to each other, chittering quietly, and Godzilla and Kong raised their hands.

“Kong, I’m not letting you have a gun, put your goddamn hand down.” Godzilla glared.

Kong huffed, dropping his arm.

“It’s been a _long_ couple of years, but I learned how to shoot guns.” Godzilla clarified for Sunny. “Why?”

“Well, time to brush up.” Sunny jerked her head. “This way.”

\-----------

Sunny led them out around to the back of the saloon, setting up a line of empty bottles, before handing Godzilla a worn-up rifle she had gotten from somewhere. “First thing’s first, you know gun safety?”

“Yeah, always treat it like it’s loaded, _always._ Never _, never, EVER_ point it at somebody unless I’m ready to kill them. And keep my finger _off_ the trigger unless I’m ready to shoot.” Godzilla recited, from memory. Sure, he didn’t _like_ all those talks with Lonnie, the _asshole_ , but he did get some good practical knowledge.

Honestly, he wasn’t too crazy about using guns, but… welp, even with radiation sources all over the place as befitting a post-nuclear wasteland, it probably was a good idea to save his atomic breath for when he REALLY needed it, especially if everything was scaled up to match him.

“Right then, see those sarsaparilla bottles on the fence?” She pointed to the line, try to knock them down.

“Boy, invasion of the small bottles, whatever will we do?” Godzilla muttered, chambering a round, taking aim down the sight, and firing. In the span of thirty seconds, the line of bottles was gone, reduced to shattered glass on the ground.

“Not bad.” Sunny nodded approvingly. “Now for what I _really_ am payin’ you to fight.”

“What, we weren’t saying ‘fuck bottles’ and smashing them for no good reason?” Godzilla asked, causing the others to shake their heads in exasperation.

“There’s a nest of Geckos down near the town’s water supply.” Sunny explained, gesturing for them to follow.

Rex tilted his head inquisitively. “Geckos?”

“Small critters, but damned annoying, and in high enough numbers, they can rip a man limb from limb.” Sunny explained, leading them down the main street of the town. “Now that I think about it, you and the big guy over there look kinda like overgrown Geckos yourselves.”

“Gee, thanks.” Godzilla muttered. “So, this a normal thing for you then? Run off pests and drink?”

“Pretty much.” Sunny answered. “Guess you could say I’m the town sheriff, but there’s nobody around here that needs sheriffin’, so I just take care of whatever varmints that decide they wanna drink outta our water.”

Sunny led them off the road, across the dirt, close to a series of cliffs nearby.

“So, there’s Goodsprings, is there any other places around?” Rodan asked, feeling already like he wanted to take to the skies.

“There’s Primm a little ways south,” Sunny replied, “Mojave Outpost’s further south than that. Up north’s Quarry Junction, but you probably don’t wanna be heading that way. Hear the whole place is infested with Deathclaws.”

“Mojave Outpost…” Mothra repeated. “What sort of an outpost is that?”

Sunny looked over, “NCR runs it. Caravans coming into the Mojave usually come through there.”

“NCR…” Rex blinked. “What’s that?”

Sunny looked to him, inquisitive. “Y’all don’t know about the NCR?”

“We’re…” They all looked to each other. “Not from around here.” Godzilla vocalized carefully. “Don’t know jack shit about this place.”

“All right, well,” Sunny took a breath, “NCR’s New California Republic. They started out way further west as a couple of towns and Vault City, and before you know it, boom. Folks who live there will tell ya they’ve got running water in every home, paper money instead of caps, you don’t have to go out and search for your own food every day.”

“Well, hell, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Rodan commented. “I could use a little pampering.”

“Sure, if you wanna trade away your freedom.” Sunny shrugged.

Godzilla looked to her, silently searching. “You don’t sound too friendly with them.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them, but… well, seems to me they’re making all the same mistakes the folks in the old world made. The one that caused a nuclear war to begin with.” Sunny commented. “Still, they’re better than some alternatives. Even if laws ain’t your thing.”

“Laws.” Kong snorted derisively. “Hate laws.”

Rodan looked over, looking Kong up and down. “And here I thought you were an upstanding citizen.”

“Shh!” Sunny suddenly cut them off. “Hear that?” She let the others fall quiet, before she heard hissing in the distance. “There’s our Geckos.” She looked to the others, motioning for them to follow, as she led them around the bend of a rock, looking at a well with a windmill in the distance. “Doesn’t look like there’s too many.” She looked to Godzilla. “Think you can handle them?”

Godzilla looked to the Geckos, snorting. “I probably won’t even need this gun.” He said, standing tall, before walking out, up to the windmill. The five geckos surrounding it looked at him, chittering, before hissing.

Godzilla clenched his fists, and took a breath, pulling out a deep, bellowing screech. **_“SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”_**

The Geckos all scattered, running for the hills.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” Sunny chuckled, walking over to join once the coast was clear. “You’ve got some pipes on you! We probably won’t be seeing hide nor hair of those things for another _week_. There’s two more wells that need clearing, you up for it?”

“Sure.” Godzilla nodded, looking to Rex. “You take one, I’ll get the other?”

Rex nodded, as Sunny turned to point him in the correct direction, while Godzilla took the other.

Coming to the ridge, Godzilla looked down, eyes shooting open. A figure in a dress, carrying canteens of water, was trying to fight off at least six Geckos with nothing more than a butcher’s knife, and she was failing, badly. “There’s a woman down there!” He realized, before going to roar again.

 ** _“SREEEEEEEE-ONK!”_** The bellowing broke the air, sending the Geckos scattering. A similar one echoed, no doubt Rex taking care of his share, before Sunny jumped down to approach the woman.

“Clara, I _told_ you, don’t be going to get water when we _know_ the Geckos are out!” Sunny chided, as the other monsters formed up behind her.

“I-I’m sorry, Sunny.” The woman, who could be no more than twenty, stammered, staring at her monstrous rescuers. “I-It looked clear, so I thought it was safe, then they… came out of nowhere!”

Sunny sighed, rubbing her face. “Well, the important thing is, you’re not _dead._ Go run over to Doc Mitchell’s and get him to look you over.”

“Y-Yes, Sunny.” Clara quickly nodded, looking to her rescue party. “Th-thanks!” She offered, before quickly running off.

Godzilla looked down to Sunny, raising an eyebrow as Rex finally rejoined the group, no doubt taking a while from stopping to eat the dead Geckos. “Do people around here normally do that?”

“Sometimes, but not enough to be a problem.” Sunny replied. “Most are smart enough to know when to hang back and let the people who can fight handle their problems. Welp, you held up your end of the deal, so I’ll hold up mine,” She pulled a small baggie out of her pocket, placing it in Godzilla’s hand. “Fifty caps. It’s not a lot, but it’s good enough to start you out on. You can probably find stuff to sell if you look around for it. Pretty much any kind of ammo, stimpaks, chems, they’ll run for a good price. And old guns.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Godzilla replied, taking a cap to look at it. Huh, so these people _actually_ used bottle caps. Made sense. You couldn’t easily make more given that all the presses went down with the apocalypse, there’s a fixed amount out there, you could back it with something like clean water or whatever… he wondered if different brands had different values associated with them. Probably not, these caps were all from different brands, and there was exactly fifty of them, as Sunny had promised.

“Still, I figure there’s something better than caps I can offer you.” Sunny began.

“Uh…” Rodan leaned over to Mothra. “Is she coming onto him?”

Mothra smacked Rodan away.

“Living off the land, that’s your best asset out here.” Sunny continued, uncaring of the mumblings Rodan was creating. “You’re not always gonna be able to find stimpaks, food, water, or stuff like that. Sometimes you have to make it.”

“Well…” Godzilla looked over his group. “Most of us don’t actually need to eat.” He explained. “And we can cook food and boil water for Kong ourselves, and Mothra’s good for healing. Still, thanks for the offer.”

Sunny shrugged. “Ah well, don’t say I didn’t offer. I’m heading back up to the saloon now. Hope I didn’t miss anything good on the jukebox, Cheyenne would never forgive me.” She moved to walk back up the road, before abruptly stopping to turn around. “Hey, do me a favor. Trudy -the bartender at the Prospector, kind of the town mom and mayor rolled into one- she likes to meet newcomers.”

“Oh?” Godzilla blinked. “Even ones who look like deathclaws?”

“Word’s already spread you’re here and not rippin’ out throats, I bet.” Sunny replied. “She’d get real cross if I hung out with y’all and didn’t send you up to say hi.” She turned back around, marching back up to the saloon.

“We’re not actually going to talk to that lady, right?” Rex asked.

Godzilla looked to him. “Why not? We already need to talk to her to get more info on that guy so we can get the hell out of this freaky place.” He looked to the sky. “El, if you’re watching us, and I know you are, I have two words. Fuck you.”

“Godzilla!” Mothra gasped. “What horrible language!”

“Ah, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Godzilla grumbled, marching back up the road, on a course for the Prospector Saloon.

\---------

Walking back in, the group could see a man in what looked like an old-school prison uniform with a Kevlar vest, the letters ‘NCRCF’ printed on the back in white lettering, and he was arguing with an older lady dressed like a grandma, almost.

“I’m _done_ being nice.” The man snarled. “If you don’t hand Ringo over soon, I’m going to get my friends, and we’re going to burn this town to the ground, got it?”

The woman crossed her arms. “We’ll keep that in mind.” She responded, speaking with a voice that came from years of shouting things. It took Godzilla a moment to place the strange familiarity, but he thought she looked and sounded a rather lot like an older Kate Mulgrew. Funny. He didn’t really enjoy Mrs. Columbo. “Now, if you’re not going to buy something, _get out._ ”

The man growled, flipping her the bird, before turning around, slamming directly into Godzilla.

“If another one of you country fucks-“ He snarled on the floor, looking up. The rest of his words died upon seeing Godzilla standing with his arms crossed.

“Buddy… I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d best learn some manners, fast.” Godzilla growled threatening. The man stood, standing there, before Godzilla barred his teeth, sending him running. Godzilla watched as he scrambled out of the saloon, before turning to the woman. “Are you Trudy?”

“I am.” The woman smiled in disbelief as she looked him up and down. “Well, I’ll be. You’ve been causing quite a stir. A talking deathclaw. Glad I finally got to meet you.”

“Likewise, ma’am.” Godzilla carefully offered his hand, and she took it carefully, her hand absolutely dwarfed in his like a newborn’s dwarfed in an adult’s hand. He wanted to ask first about the gang that shot the courier they found, but something else grabbed his attention. “Who was that guy running around acting like he owned the damn place?”

Trudy scowled. “Joe Cobb. He leads the local ‘powder gangers.’” She huffed, shaking her head, moving behind the bar.

“Powder gangers?” Godzilla repeated.

“A buncha TNT-slinging lowlifes.” Trudy explained. “There was a riot at the NCR Correctional Facility a while back, now the prisoners are running around throwing dynamite at whoever gets in their way.” She shook her head. “Guess that’s what happens when you give a bunch of convicts sticks of dynamite, don’t pay ‘em nothing, and expect them to be happy with it.”

“Hmph.” Kong snorted. “Dynamite… go boom. I want some.”

“Kong, no, we’re not giving you dynamite!” Mothra hissed.

Godzilla shook his head at their conversation, turning back to Trudy. “So, he goes around lording it up, but what does that have to do with you guys?”

Trudy sighed, leaning against the bar, holding her head on her hand. “About a week ago, this trader, Ringo, comes into town lookin’ a right mess. Survivor of an attack, bad men after him, needs a place to hide. We figured one of the raider gangs hit his caravan, so we gave him a place to hide.” She shrugged. “They like hitting small, moving targets, but even a place like Goodsprings is armed well enough to fight them off, so we figured if we kept him holed up here, they’d lose interest, and go on. Couple of days later, Cobb showed up, spewing brahmin shit about how Ringo attacked his people. One look at Ringo tells you that ain’t right.”

“Ah…” Godzilla nodded. “Where’ve you got him hiding now?”

“Abandoned gas station up the hill.” Trudy replied, wiping down the bar. “Not much anybody uses it for, and it’s not infested with anything, so we figured that was a good place to stick him till all this blows over.”

Rodan walked over, tilting his head. “Why don’t you guys just kill the bastard and be done with it?”

Trudy looked at him, sternly tilting her head. “That’s not how we do things around here. Cobb may be scum, but he’s all bark and no bite. His ‘gang’ is five half-naked psycho trippers more likely to blow _themselves_ up than us.”

“I meant Ringo.”

Godzilla scowled, smacking Rodan down. “We don’t kill the innocent.” He turned to Trudy. “So, what’re you guys going to do?”

Trudy shrugged. “Some of the others’ll probably help Ringo if he just asks, which he hasn’t. Personally, I just want him to sneak out in the middle of the night and take Cobb and his gang with him.”

 _‘Hm… Maybe I should go up there and talk to the guy after this.’_ Godzilla made a mental note to himself, before switching gears. “There is something else. I’m looking for some people, Sunny said you might be able to help? Guy in a fancy suit, followed around by a bunch of punks? Can you tell me anything about them?”

Immediately, Trudy’s face went from warm and kind, to scowling. “Not much. Other than they’re a bunch of freeloaders who expected a free round on the house. I got them to pay up though. One of the Khans knocked over my radio on ‘accident’ though. Ain’t worked right since.”

Godzilla’s brow shot up. “Well, Mothra’s good with tech,” He pointed to her, “Maybe she could take a look, if you like.”

Trudy’s eyebrows shot up, before she gestured to the broken radio. “By all means, go ahead.”

Mothra nodded, gracefully flapping over to pick up, and look the radio over. While she busied herself with that, popping open the back panel, Godzilla continued his conversation.

“Khans? Who’re they?” Rex asked.

“The Great Khans.” Trudy elaborated. “They used to be a pretty big raider gang back in the day. Now they’re just a bunch of chem-pushers who live in tents. Don’t blame you for not hearing about them.”

Godzilla nodded in comprehension. “So, this guy I’m looking for, he was traveling with them. Did you catch word of where they were heading?”

“They sounded like they were having an argument about it, but the guy in the suit kept shushing them.” Trudy recalled, as she wiped out a glass. “Don’t blame ‘em. Sounded like they came in up north through quarry junction. That whole _place_ is filled with critters that just get angry if you shoot at them. Merchants avoid that whole stretch of I-15 like it’s radioactive. It could be, for all I know.”

“Mmm… radiation.” Rex sounded like he was salivating. “Could use a snack.”

“Rex, quiet man.” Godzilla hissed. “Did you catch their destination?” He asked of Trudy.

“They kept whispering about the Strip.” Trudy finally offered up.

The ones still gathered around looked at each other. “We’re in Nevada…”

“Vegas.” Rodan finished, shaking his head. “Great… I love that wretched hive of scum and villainy.”

“All right,” Godzilla looked to Trudy, questioningly. “What’s the fastest way to get to Vegas without going through I-15?”

“Head south out of town towards Primm,” Trudy relayed, “Once you get down towards the Mojave Outpost, head east towards Nipton, go up to Novac, and keep heading straight on.”

“Well, that sounds like a plan if I’ve ever heard it. Mothra!” Godzilla looked over to her. “You done over there yet?”

“Almost,” The moth goddess replied. “Let me just put this here and…” The radio crackled to life, spitting out _Back in the Saddle_ by Gene Autry.

“Well, I’ll be!” Trudy remarked. “Just when I was starting to miss hearing Mister New Vegas, too. Here.” She was about to pass some caps off to Mothra, only to realize that the giant moth didn’t have any fingers, so she handed them over to Godzilla for safe keeping. “Take these for your trouble.”

“Much appreciated.” Godzilla turned to his followers. “Come on, you guys. Let’s hit the road.”

“Vegas.” Kong mumbled, walking out behind him. “Bright city. Long walk.”

“Nah, we’re not heading to Vegas just yet.” Godzilla told him, looking to the far side of the town where, sure enough, there was an old, run down gas station branded as Poseidon Energy.

\--------

Immediately upon entering, a gunshot rang out, and Godzilla staggered, he looked up, growling, at the scared man holding the smoking pistol. Godzilla rumbled, snatching it out of his hand.

“You’ll get this back when I’m done.” Godzilla narrowed his eyes. The bullet didn’t damage him too severely, but it did hurt, a _lot_.

“W-Wh-What’re you!?” The terrified man, Ringo presumably, held up his hands. “What do you want with me!?”

“I _want_ ,” Godzilla huffed, “To make sure your ‘bury my head in the sand like an ostrich’ plan doesn’t get the people in this town killed. I haven’t been here long, but I’ve started getting a bit fond of it, you understand.”

“Wh-What?”

Rodan let out a suffering sigh. “Cobb and his troupe of demomen. You know they’re after you, we know they’re after you, they know you’re here, and they’re ready to light this place up like a fireworks display.”

“I can handle Cobb on my own.” Ringo snorted. “His gang, though…”

“Yeah, that’s why we’re here, _dipshit._ ” Rodan shot back.

Godzilla fixed him with a glare, holding his hand up in front of Rodan. “We wanna help fight the powder gangers. Trust us, there’s five of us here, and we’ve seen our share of fights.”

Ringo slowly nodded. “Yeah, with the five of you… It could work. And if we get some more of the townsfolk on our side…”

“We can beat this thing back easier than it looks.” Godzilla nodded in understanding. “So, you in?”

“…ah, what the hell?” Ringo shrugged. “Didn’t wanna die alone anyway. Go talk to Sunny Smiles first, she’ll probably be up to helping right quick.”

Godzilla sighed. Already backtracking… he hoped that didn’t become a trend.

\-----------

“Say no more.” Sunny replied as _soon_ as Godzilla got done relaying the plans. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Rex raised a brow. “Just like that?”

Sunny nodded. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve dealt with assholes like him before. Ringo or no Ringo, he’s gonna come for us, no matter what Trudy wants to believe otherwise. The seven of us… we’re good, but the explosions are gonna be flying. If we wanna get it done with as little damage as possible, we need to end it, _fast_ , that means more people. Lotta folks around here look up to Trudy. Talk to her, see if she can round up some more fighters. Easy Pete too, he’s got some dynamite stashed around here somewhere, but I don’t know where. And Chet, the one who owns the general store. He can get people hooked up with some ammo and armor. Oh, and don’t forget Doc Mitchell, he lives in the house on the left of the gas station. We’ll probably be fine, but chances are, we won’t come out entirely unscathed.”

“Trudy, Pete, Chet, the Doctor, got it.” Godzilla nodded.

Sunny nodded as well. “I’ll keep an eye out and come running when I see his gang.”

“Right, everyone.” Godzilla turned to his group. “Split up, talk to them one-on-one. When you’re done, we all meet up back at the gas station.”

\-----------

“So, I hear you’re planning on taking Cobb’s gang.” Trudy remarked upon laying her eyes on Godzilla. “Can’t say it’s what I would do, but you gotta do what you think is right, I suppose.”

“This is a lovely town, Trudy.” Godzilla replied. “I don’t wanna see it leveled because you guys tried to do the right thing. You should come and help out. Bullets, explosions, punishing the wicked, it’ll be fun.”

Trudy crossed her arms, looking at him deadpan. “I was never a wild child.”

“Fine, how about this?” Godzilla posed. “I know a thing or two about dealing with bullies like this. It’s what I do for a living, hell, back where I’m from, I became _king_ by taking down people like Cobb. I can do this, we can save the town, but I can’t do it on my own. Please, Trudy, if not for me, then for Goodsprings.”

“…” Trudy sighed. “You know, I was planning on sitting this one out, but after that little spiel, I can’t help but like you. I’m in. Let me round up a few other folks, and we’ll meet you outside.”

Godzilla smiled. “A few extra’s all I need.”

\---------

“Hmph.” Kong grunted, standing in front of Easy Pete. “Old man. Need boomsticks. Dyne-o-mite.”

Easy Pete huffed, barely looking up to him. “Too dangerous. Blow yourselves up.”

Kong frowned. “Know how to handle it. Proper trained with mines, TNT, fireworks…“

“Hm…” Pete rumbled. “You sure sound like you know what you’re talking about.” He took a breath, grunting as he got up. “I’ll go dig it up.”

Kong watched Pete leave with a twinkle in his eyes.

Needless to say, Kong was lying, but he didn’t care.

He was about to get to blow stuff up.

\----------

“Now, just hold on,” Chet crossed his arms, “I never signed on to fighting those powder gangers! That’s a thousand-cap investment we’re talking about.”

“Really?” Rodan cocked his head. “That gang won’t be looking to trade with you, they’re gonna _rob_ you, or worse, you’re gonna be _dead_ if you don’t help.”

Chet gulped, paling. “I’ll… get some supplies ready.

\---------

Mothra waited patiently after knocking on the door, hovering there, waiting for it to open.

Doc Mitchell opened the door, looking agape as he was met with the enormous creature.

“Hello, Doctor.” Mothra greeted. “The residents of the town are about to fight off the powder gangers. I have medical abilities, but I was rather hoping that there would be some supplies you can spare.”

Mitchell sighed, shaking his head. “It’s the same old story everywhere, people picking fights… I’m not much good in a brawl, on account of my leg, and my supplies are scarce, but I’ll give you what I can.”

Mothra’s mandibles parted in her version of a smile, and she bowed her head. “Pleasure doing business with you, Doctor.”

\---------

“Okay, so, we’ve got guns,” Godzilla laid them out on the table, “Medical supplies, some ammo, Trudy’s rounding up the fighters… guys, where’s the dynamite?”

“Last I checked,” Rex pointed to Kong.

“You let him _carry the dynamite!?”_

“Hey, I didn’t _let_ him do anything.” Rex retorted. “It’s either that, or get my arms pulled out of their sockets.”

“My boomsticks.” Kong growled.

“Oh, for god’s sake…” Godzilla shook his head. “Alright, well… that’s everything. The only thing now is to wait for-“

“Alright fellas, look alive!” Sunny hollered, kicking in the door. “Powder gangers are here and ready to play!”

“All right, everyone,” Godzilla took a rifle, spines pulsing blue. “We’re the first line of defense. Don’t let them get into down any farther than we absolutely have to, got that?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Sunny replied, grabbing her weapon, and taking the lead out, running down the street.

The seven moved as fast as they could, and halfway down the road, they could already hear the dynamite exploding as the powder gangers made as loud an entrance as physically possible.

Electing to waste no time as they were already hostile, Godzilla took aim with the firearm Sunny had given to him (the idea of using a gun was going to take some getting used to), while Rex’s spines flashed blue, before he let a blast of atomic breath lance out towards the gang members.

“Holy shit, that thing breathes fir-AAAAAAAGH!” A powder ganger wailed in agony as he was cut down.

Kong beat his chest, taking a pilfered lighter, before lighting the fuse on the dynamite, tossing it towards the gangers.

Two of them barely realized what it was, before it exploded, sending them flying across the street in bloody chunks.

“Motherfuckers!” Kong bellowed, lighting up more dynamite.

Mothra took to the air, blasting them in the faces with globs of silk, leaving them open to attack from the others.

By the end, only Cobb stood, holding a bloodied wound, wielding a pistol.

“You… you sons of bitches…” He spat, glaring at the townsfolk. “I’ve got friends out there who’ll realize what happened. Your shitty little town won’t ever be safe! You think this is over!?”

Godzilla looked to the people behind him, before turning to Cobb. “Yes.” He bluntly stated, firing a blast of breath at the man to finish him off.

Cobb fell to the ground, headless, as Godzilla turned around, looking to the townsfolk. They all stared back at him, shocked…

Before they erupted into cheers.

“WHOOOOO-WHEEEE!” Was what the general sentiment could best be summed up as.

“Holy shit…” Ringo breathed, joining the group of monsters. “It’s over…”

Godzilla turned to him. “It’s over. You’re welcome.”

“I-I owe you a huge favor for this!” Ringo said, going quickly to search his pockets. “Here!” He passed him over a small bag filled with bottle caps, at least a hundred. “These are technically Crimson Caravan funds, but… they’ll understand!”

Godzilla did a quick mental tally in his head… almost two hundred caps now. Not bad. “Thanks.” He offered Ringo, putting the money with the rest of it.

“I owe you more than that though, so look me up in the Crimson Caravan office if you ever visit New Vegas.”

Godzilla chuckled. “I’m sure that can be arranged. What’ll you do now that Cobb’s taken care of?”

“I’ll probably hang around here a while longer.” Ringo admitted. “Want to actually get to know the people who helped save my bacon, know what I mean?”

“I get it.” Godzilla offered a clawed handshake. “See you around, Ringo.”

“Till next time.” He replied, going to join the crowd of dispersing townspeople.

“…” Godzilla suddenly clapped his hands. “Alright everyone, get to looting.” He ordered, going to look over the corpses of the powder gangers.

“What!?” Mothra squeaked.

“You can’t be serious!” Rodan replied.

“Rule one of post-apocalypse survival, if it’s not nailed down and you know someone won’t be gunning for you if you swipe it, swipe it.” Godzilla reasoned, dressing down the bodies. “These guys have got dynamite, guns, ammo, clothes, maybe even some medicine. We can’t _use_ all of it, but we can definitely sell it. Kong, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you take the dynamite, you handled it well out there. Plus, you’ve got a good throwing arm.”

Kong grunted in response as he took a cowboy hat of one of the bodies, fixing it to his head, along with a bandolier. He slipped the dynamite into the bandolier, grinning like a maniac, as the others grabbed what they could off the bodies.

It wasn’t very _kingly_ behavior, stealing from the dead to make a quick buck, but…

Even in the post-apocalypse, money makes the world go round.

\-----------

After getting all the supplies off the bodies they could, they took them to Chet to sell off the stuff they didn’t need and were left with a not-insignificant sum of caps afterward. Furthermore, some of the townsfolk, on Trudy’s order, helped gather up some supplies for them, enough to last the trip to Mojave outpost.

Before long, it was time to set off, and although Goodsprings was saddened to see them go, wished the monsters on with the best of luck.

Walking on the road out of town things were, mercifully, calm, the only source of ire being the sun beating down on them, which was looking to be over soon, as it was fast approaching sunset.

As they walked, Rodan noticed something rather odd. “Uh… why’s there a skeleton laying in a fridge?”

“I don’t know.” Godzilla shrugged. “Stupid fuck probably thought he could survive in it. Whatever. How long is it to Primm?”

“Seven hours.” Mothra answered. “On foot.”

Rex sighed. “So… anybody know any good travel songs?”

Kong suddenly stopped, looking at a silhouette in the distance. He began raising hell as he ran over.

“Kong!” Godzilla shouted, running after him, “What’s-!?” He took a breath, as he realized what was causing Kong such a fuss.

A car, an actual car, unlike the ruined husks laying around, rotting and rusting.

“Kong,” Godzilla addressed, looking up and down the road, making sure no one could hear him. “Next time I call you a stupid ape, you’re free to bring this up.” He stepped away, looking to Mothra. “This baby’ll start, won’t it?”

Mothra gingerly approached the car, looking it over. “…Yes.” She decided after a moment. “It has been sitting here for decades, it seems… but I can fix it swiftly. Give me a few moments.”

“All right,” He turned around. “Kong, please tell me you remember how to drive.”

Kong frowned, eyebrows furrowing, before he nodded.

“AHAHA!” Godzilla pumped his fist. “Everything’s coming up Godzilla!”

“There.” Mothra answered, as the engine seemingly turned over by itself. “Don’t ask me how I did it, you don’t want to know what we’re driving.”

“I don’t give a damn!” Godzilla moved to climb in, before he realized something. “Wait… how’re we all going to fit?”

\---------

 _“You’re listening to Radio New Vegas, your little jukebox in the Mojave Wasteland.”_ The voice filtered out of the radio as the highwayman’s suspension creaked as it took the cracked, busted roads like a champion.

Kong was, up front, driving, with the same calculated recklessness as Billy Hargrove. Mothra was in the passenger seat, guiding him, and Rodan was in the back, squeezed between Godzilla and Rex.

How did they all fit, one may wonder? Well, the roof had been, shall we say, _surgically removed,_ so Godzilla and Rex could fit in the back, letting their spines and tails free, also serving as lookouts, and the main targets if anyone decided to shoot at the car.

 _“I’m your host, Mister New Vegas,”_ The charismatic voice on the radio continued. _“And I’m here, for you. We’ve got some news for you, coming right up. The town of Goodsprings has fended off a mob of convicts thanks to a hastily-organized militia, led by a talking Deathclaw, according to an old man armed to the teeth with dynamite.”_

“Hey, that’s us!” Rex recognized excitedly.

“Hm…” Mothra audibly frowned. “Quite odd how fast that story broke…”

“Ah, it’s probably nothing.” Godzilla waved it away. “Some old bird probably just letting too much slip after flirting with this guy.”

 _“Boy, the Mojave Wasteland is just a fascinating place, isn't it?”_ Mr. New Vegas rhetorically asked. “ _You never know what'll happen next. Got some Dean Martin coming up, talking about the greatest feeling in the world, love. "Ain't That A Kick in the Head." Sure is, Dino. It sure is.”_

The big band music started up, as Dean Martin began to sing, and the monsters kicked their feet up, preparing for the rest of the drive.

\----------

“…They did it.” Dadzilla’s Madison’s jaw dropped as she stared at the screen. She couldn’t tell you _how_ El was giving them a feed of the traveling band of monsters but Mads assumed that it functioned a similar way to outputting sound through a radio, as El had proven herself capable to do.

Now, if you haven’t pieced it together by now, here’s the full story.

Rex (which is a story for another time) and Dadzilla, along with his own version of Maddie, had been brought over as a kind of… interdimensional family get-together. During that, Madison had brought her laptop along to show off the wonders of 2019 technology.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Madison had, in order to flex on everyone else for having superior technology, loaded up one of her very favorite games on it, showing just how far ahead games in her time were.

Everyone was enthralled, even El, who didn’t play video games. Well, all except for one. Rodan.

The big stupid firebird said, and I quote: “Oh please, it’s just a bunch of pixels and sound files, it’s not _that_ impressive. Plus, whatever choices you can make are probably laid out in advance, so they don’t even really matter.”

El had said, and I quote: “Bet!?” And then for no other reason than to shut Rodan the fuck up, searched the void for a place like Madison’s game, sized large enough so the Kaiju would be in-scale, and sent them whizzing away. And then pulled in Kong, for no other reason than she wanted to see them squirm.

She was a little psychopath.

At first, everybody was freaking out, until El put up a view on a television for all them to see, showing that everyone was fine, and that they were getting on their way nicely.

“ _I can’t believe this…”_ Dadzilla rumbled. _“Why would you do such a thing?”_

El shrugged. “Rodan needed to be taken down a peg. Besides, they’re not in _too_ much danger. I’ll pull them back if they get into trouble they can’t handle.”

“They _killed_ the Courier!” Madison squeaked, as Mads slowly nodded in agreement next to her.

“Nah, they just replaced them.” El shrugged. “Relax. Everything’s gonna work out. Besides, you’ve gotta admit, it’s fun to watch.”

“…Yeah.” Madison conceded. “You pop the popcorn, I’ll get us something to drink?”

El grinned, nodding, before running off to the mess hall.

\----------

“So, those idiots have gone and gotten themselves trapped in a post-apocalyptic wasteland.” Jane commented, doing a slow clap. “Just when I thought they couldn’t mess up any more, they go and do _this_.”

“Yep, a world of death, desert, and things ready to rip their throats out if they get too close…” Gojira rubbed his hands together.

"This is gonna be _good._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be my [Tumblr](https://d0ct0rp004ndtheturdis.tumblr.com/), yar!


	2. I Fought the Law...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues onto Primm, but instead of the calm rest stop they were hoping for, they find the town occupied by Powder Gangers.
> 
> Even in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Godzilla can't catch a break.

The Highwayman rattled and shook as it rolled down the old, cracked tarmac. Night had fallen, over the wasteland, and that meant most of the mutated abominations went in for the night as well, leaving the road clear.

Before long, as Peggy Lee’s voice faded into nothing on the radio, the Highwayman full of monsters pulled took the exit road for Primm, rolling to a stop outside the NCR checkpoint.

“Hey, where the hell do you-“ An NCR trooper was on them in an instant, about to rip into them, before he froze in shock. The man looked like he couldn’t decide whether or not to piss himself, or to grab his gun and start shooting. “Son of a bitch, the fucking rads have finally got to me.”

“Nope.” Godzilla muttered. “I’m Godzilla, that’s Mothra up there, Kong’s that lovely ape behind the wheel, this is Rex, and the fire chicken’s Rodan. And yes, we are talking monsters.”

“B-B-But…. DEATHCLAW!” He screamed, going for his gun.

Godzilla jumped out of his seat as fast as he could, yanking his gun away, placing a hand over his mouth.

“Look, we _just_ want to get into Primm.” Godzilla told him calmly. “We’re not here to hurt you or your soldier pals, okay? I’m going to remove my hand, but for the love of God, please stay calm.”

The Trooper gulped, as Godzilla slowly removed his hand.

“Okay, now… can we come in? And you know, can we get an advance warning?”

“S-Sorry, sir, but -ah- Primm is off limits.” The trooper stuttered.

Rodan scowled. “Off limits? The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some convicts have escaped from the prison up the road, took control of the town.” The Trooper answered, slowly gaining back the courage to talk. “The citizens are either all dead or hiding.”

“Convicts…” Rex scowled. “Powder gangers.”

Kong chuckled excitedly. “Boom time.”

“Not yet, BK.” Godzilla told him, looking back to the Trooper. “You guys are soldiers, right? Why don’t you just deal with them yourselves?”

“We’d _love_ to,” The Trooper grumbled, “But their town isn’t under our jurisdiction, we _can’t_ go in until somebody in there sends for help.”

“Ah, yes, bureaucracy in action.” Mothra shook her head.

“Even so, we’re just not in the shape for it.” The trooper continued.

Godzilla raised a brow. “Not in the shape for it?”

“We don’t have the equipment, or the backup.” The Trooper shrugged.

“If some small town like this can’t get the backup to clear out hostiles, the NCR must be really spread thin…” Mothra muttered, rubbing her chin. “Concerning.”

“We could help out,” Godzilla offered. “We’ve dealt with more of these assholes before.”

The Trooper looked them all over. “…I can’t say we’re in a position to be choosy when it comes to help. Talk to Lieutenant Hayes, he’s in a tent down at the end of this road. Just stay on _this_ side of the overpass unless you wanna get shot. …Oh, and you’ll have to leave the car here. It won’t fit in the camp.”

Godzilla sighed. “Figured as much. Alright everyone, out.” He ordered, handing the trooper back his weapon.

The others nodded, and got out, Rodan especially reluctantly. The five checked themselves over, making sure the car couldn’t be stolen, though the trooper watching it was liable to prevent that from happening, and proceeded down the road.

Primm -well, the side of Primm they were on, in any case- was way worse off than Goodsprings had been. The brick buildings were heavily decayed, walls falling apart, piles of rubble everywhere. Across what had once been an overpass, only a path hanging on by the barest of threads now, lay the rest of Primm, most likely what was only the town now. A single, large casino and hotel with a ruined rollercoaster stood, lights shining brightly out into the Mojave’s night sky.

Most of the NCR Troopers had evidently turned in for the night, but those who were awake turned, gawking as the non-hostile monsters walked past, gesturing in way of proper greetings. Finally, they reached the end of the road, blocked off by sandbag barriers and wooden blockades, with two tents nestled in the corner of a concrete wall.

A Trooper was outside, warming his hands by a barrel, and he gaped as they walked past, opening the flap to the bigger tent, which they naturally assumed to mean the command tent.

“You Lieutenant Hayes?” Godzilla addressed, causing the man to jump back.

When the NCR Trooper saw that the Deathclaw-looking thing _wasn’t_ snarling like a feral dog and trying to rip him apart, he coughed, and adjusted his uniform, trying to save face by attempting to quickly go back to a dignified look. “I’m Lieutenant Hayes of the New California Republic Army, 5th battalion, 1st company. What’s your business?”

“Geez, are all these guys like this, or do they beat the fun out of them?” Rodan asked, only to earn an elbowing from Godzilla.

“Look, we need to get into Primm.” Godzilla led with that. “I’ve got a delivery order from the Mojave Express here that I need more info on, and the office is in that town, supposedly?”

“A courier, eh?” Hayes rhetorically commented. “You’re damn committed to your job if you’re willing to go in there with all that mess. Could use a few men like you.”

Rex blinked. “So, is that a yes, or a no?”

Hayes sighed. “I’ll send word to my men guarding the bridge, but once you’re on the other side, you’re on your own. Good luck.”

“I appreciate it.” Godzilla turned, gesturing for his posse to follow. He led them back out of the tent, walking towards the bridge leading over to the town.

“So, the Powder Gangers have taken this place as well.” Mothra commented. “Quite concerning, that such a small, token force could effectively take and hold it against a military.”

Rodan snorted. “It’s not like the NCR has the bodies to spare, looks like.”

“That’s my point.” Mothra stated. “If they can’t afford to even clear out a bunch of common criminals, how can they be expected to protect people out here?”

“You know, seems like wherever we go, there’s problems.” Rex commented to Godzilla.

The leader turned around to look at him. “We’ve only visited two towns, you can’t make that assertion just yet.”

Rex huffed, crossing his arms. “Mark my words.”

Godzilla shook his head, approaching the bridge. The guard gulped, seeing them approach, and quickly got out of the way to allow them access. What looked like three mines were placed along the thin path, the only thing other than the guy with the gun providing a defense for the other side.

“… _wow._ ” Rodan looked at the mines in a deadpan manner. “Three mines, a guy with a shitty rifle, and a half-crumbling bridge. Truly, the NCR trains its troops to make do with everything they have.”

“How are you, Rex, and Kong going to get past?” Mothra inquired, perching herself atop Godzilla. “Rodan and I are capable of flight, but you…”

“Hmm…” Godzilla frowned in thought. “If everything’s scaled to us, that means a low-level nuclear pulse won’t be too damaging to the surroundings, right?”

“Little more than an electromagnetic burst.” Mothra explained. “Why?”

Godzilla said nothing, letting his actions speak for the idea he had. Charging the spines on his back, he felt nuclear power flowing through them, and released it quickly out of the bony plates, not letting them build to anywhere near full charge.

What looked like a small shockwave of blue light radiated out, crossing the mines, causing the lights that signaled they were armed to flicker and die out. The streetlamps nearby flickered, but as the pulse was already losing strength, they stabilized quickly.

“Heh, nice.” Godzilla grinned to himself, holding his head high. “Should go into bomb defusal after this.” He turned to the others, waving them along, as he walked across the torn bridge.

“You know, you could have just _asked_ the guy to deactivate them long enough for us to pass.” Rodan pointed out.

Godzilla scowled. “Shut up.”

Kong snorted. “Stupid lizard.”

Godzilla’s angry grimace deepened, and he turned around, about to get into yet another verbal sparring match with Kong, before a gunshot broke the chirping of the crickets, and he felt the shot hit him in the back of the head.

“OH, OKAY, SO IT’S FIGHTING TIME NOW!? BEAUTIFUL!” Godzilla whipped back around to face the escaped convict, who, against all self-preservation, was unloading a full magazine in their direction. So, Godzilla pulled the gun at his side up to bear. “Alright assholes, don’t mess with the king if you’re not ready for him to execute you!”

Godzilla took aim, repeatedly squeezing the trigger. It wasn’t an automatic weapon, though still, the sounds of the gun going ‘GLACK-GLACK-GLACK’ were music to him.

…wait, didn’t he say he didn’t like guns earlier? Jesus, this place was already getting to him.

Never mind that, Godzilla holding a gun was just a cursed image, period.

The head of the convict exploded into a fine red mist, his gun landing on the ground, smoking.

“…that it?” Godzilla muttered, letting the gun fall to his side. “ _One_ guy out here? Jesus, these NCR guys must be _really_ hard-pressed for help.”

“Hotel.” Kong grunted. “People there.”

“No, Kong,” Godzilla quietly hissed, “If you don’t acknowledge that fact, then it won’t happen!”

“…Big G, I hate to break it to you, but that’s not how reality works.” Rodan blankly told him.

“It is in my mind, and mind over matter’s the strongest force out there.” Godzilla retorted, walking up to a brick building with signage proclaiming it to be the Mojave Express laid out on the top. At the foot of the building, though…

“Oh hell , a dead guy!” Rex glanced around, taking a step to the young man, dressed only for ferrying objects and not for combat. A hole was in the center of his forehead, black marks around it, and the blood splatter was dried a rusty red-brown.

He’d obviously been there for some time.

Godzilla cut him off with a stern look and a quick hand. “Rule one to staying out of prison, Rex, don’t feel up the dead. Especially if it’s an _old_ crime scene… then again, prison don’t scare me.” Godzilla began rifling through the man’s pockets, picking up everything he could, including a sheet of paper with the words Mojave Express printed on it.

Godzilla frowned, looking to Mothra. “You still have the other delivery order, right?”

Mothra nodded wordlessly, handing it over without question.

Godzilla skimmed the two at once. Both were identical… except for one tidbit of info. The package information about the platinum chip was replaced with info for a pair of comically large fuzzy dice.

What the hell was going on with this order? It was labeled four of six, and the one they picked off the courier they’d inadvertently killed- I mean, stumbled across dead- was labeled six out of six.

Godzilla scowled, looking up at the building, and the sign on the roof. “Mojave Express. They’re bound to have some answers to our questions... Let’s hope it’s not by appointment only.”

Godzilla took point, knocking, and slowly opening the door.

“Yes, hello, I’m aware we all look like hideous monsters, but we’re here to inquire about a package, don’t shoot if you please!” Rodan called into the building as Godzilla walked inside, hunching down slightly to fit.

“Nobody’s here, Dan.” Godzilla threw over his shoulder, looking around curiously.

A busted-up sphere-shaped robot, patched together with old bits of metal such as license plates and bent-out-of-shape tin cans lay inactive on the main counter, with a shelf of old electronics and bits of scrap metal on the adjacent wall.

“Well, the place is empty,” Rodan looked to Godzilla, “If the lack of gunshots, screaming, and explosions are any giveaway.”

Godzilla spared him a deadpan glance, huffing. “Cute.” He peeked around the wall to see a small living area, a bed, stove, and fridge all neatly arranged, and the door to the bathroom was still open. No sign of humans, not even a body. “Hm… The guys who ran this place must’ve dipped somewhere else.” He decided. “Come on, that casino across the way looked like it was open, let’s check in there.”

“Hold on, how do you even know they’re still _alive_?” Rodan questioned.

“No bodies, no sign of a struggle.” Godzilla shrugged. “They probably are hiding.”

Kong snorted. “Body outside.”

“No, _he_ was one of the mailmen.” Godzilla replied, damn near breaking the door off as he pulled it open. “Come on. We’re burning day- I mean, nightlight.”

Godzilla led the team across the street, carefully glancing to the sides as they moved. The windows and doors were all boarded up, save for one set facing the Bison Steve Hotel.

Godzilla wrapped his hand around it, taking a breath. “Okay… let’s hope they don’t have a thing against kaiju…” He opened it, taking in an even deeper breath. “Don’tshootwe’refriendlyandIknowwealllooklikethingsthat’llkillyouallhorriblybutit’sjustaskincondition!” He motored off, holding his hands up.

The citizens in the casino, who already all looked haggard and their wits’ end, stared slack-jawed at the newcomers.

Once it was apparent there was no shooting, the kaiju lowered all their hands.

The old man at the slot machine near the entrance slowly lowered his gun. “…I don’t know what it was that brought you to Primm, mutie, but you might wanna rethink that decision. Town’s gone to hell.”

Rodan glanced around sarcastically. “Really? Oh, we hadn’t noticed. We just assumed the gunshots and sticks of dynamite were how you people greeted newcomers around here.”

Godzilla smacked him down. “Have some goddamn tact.” He grumbled, turning to the old man. “Yeah, we just rode into town… who’re you?”

“Johnson Nash’s my name, husband of Ruby Nash.” The man volunteered in reply. “Lived in Primm bout eight years now. Thick and thin. I’m a trader primarily, for what it’s worth with things as they are… I run the local Mojave Express outpost.”

Godzilla’s eyebrows shot up. “Mojave Express, that’s your building?” At Nash’s nod, he quickly reached into the bag Mothra had spun, producing the delivery order. “A friend of mine was transporting a package for you guys when some jerkass blew his brains out.” He explained, handing the order to Nash. “Is there anything you can tell me about it?”

Nash read the slip of paper, and his expression turned to a scowl. “Oh… you’re talking about one o’ _them_ packages.”

The five kaiju looked at each other. “’Them’ packages?” Mothra repeated inquisitively.

Nash shook his head in exasperation. “That job had strange written all over it, but we turn down the caps. A cowboy robot had us hire six couriers, each carrying something a little different. A pair of dice, a chess piece, that sort of stuff. Last I heard from the office, payment had been received for the other five jobs… guess your friend’s the only one that didn’t make it.”

“Yeah, for obvious reasons…” Godzilla mumbled to himself.

Nash was deep in thought it appeared for a moment, before his scowl returned. “First deadbeat we hired to do the job cancelled. Hope a storm from the divide skins him alive! …well, that’s where your ‘friend’ came in.”

“Hold on.” Godzilla held up a claw. “There was someone before? Why’d he cancel?”

“Don’t know.” Nash admitted. “He was all for it at first… till he saw the name down the courier list. Turned right around then. Dropped out right then and there. ‘Let Courier Six deliver the package,’ he said… my guess is he and your friend had history or somethin’.”

“Wait… was this guy wearing a checkered suit, speaking in a really _stupid_ imitation of a gangster?” Rex asked.

“No sir,” Nash shook his head, “He had a real deep voice to him, gravelly, like he inhaled too much stone dust or something. And he wasn’t wearing no fancy suit either. But now that you mention that… a few nights back, a one of the townies was out scavenging for supplies. He said he saw a guy in a daisy suit followed by a couple of Khans talking about a chip.”

“Yep,” Godzilla nodded. “That’s him alright. I need to know how to catch up with him.”

“Well, your best bet for that is gonna be talking to Deputy Beagle.” Nash replied. “He’s the one that saw ‘em. Since they came to town, he was keeping notes on them. But now he’s caught up in the Bison Steve. You’ll have to go break him out.”

“…do we have to?” Rodan whispered to Godzilla. “We already know he’s heading to Vegas, why don’t we just head that way anyway?”

“Cause, we know he’s _from_ Vegas, but we don’t know where he’s _going_. Could be… the wasteland’s largest remaining ball of twine, for all we know right now.” Godzilla replied, looking back to Nash. “Thanks.”

Nash offered a slight tilt of his head in response. “Anytime.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Godzilla turned around.

“Wait, but I wanted to stay and talk to the people.“ Rex began.

“Then stay and talk to the people!” Godzilla snapped, shutting the doors behind them all. He sighed, rubbing his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. But it’s late, I’m tired, and I don’t feel up to sleeping until we get back on the road.”

“Understandable.” Mothra murmured, as Godzilla watched out for any more troublemakers, as he walked up to the door of the Bison Steve Hotel.

“Right, this works well for us…” Godzilla commented. “Enclosed space, so even these dumb fucks will have second thoughts about throwing around dynamite in there. Rex,” He turned to him, “I want you to stay out here. The majority of the convicts or powder gangers or whatever will be holed up in there since it’s night, but they probably have a few more people patrolling the outside right now. Find them.”

Rex scowled. “Aw, come on! Why do I have to be the one to stay behind?”

“Cause there’s no way in hell I’m letting Kong lob around dynamite willy nilly with that OSHA violation right there.” Godzilla jerked a thumb to the hotel, more specifically, the rollercoaster that probably was rickety even when it was built. “I don’t trust Rodan not to fall asleep on the job-“

“Hey!” The firebird squawked.

“And Mothra’s too important to me.”

“Aw…” Mothra flashed bashfully. “Don’t let Madison hear you say that, she might get _jealous._ ”

“Oh, shut up, not like that. You’re the only one of us here with medical know-how.” Godzilla retorted. “So, yeah, you’re up, Rex.”

“Oh boy.” Rex ineffectually shrugged as the others turned to enter. “Send me to watch the outside of the place where nobody is.”

“Don’t worry Rex, it’s such a simple job, not even you can make a hash of it!” Rodan called over his shoulder, as the door shut behind them.

Rex sighed, going to walk around to find any patrollers.

If nothing else, he at least had some guilt-free chow.

Rex perked up at that.

\----------

The moment the door clicked shut, the bullets went a flying.

“KNOCK KNOCK, JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES!” Godzilla bellowed, at the terrified convict emptying his magazine in their direction. The man was shaking so much, or his pistol’s sights were so out of alignment, that all the bullets whizzing past just hit the door instead of the intended targets.

“Do… these people even still practice religion?” Mothra asked.

“I don’t know, it just sounded funny!” Godzilla replied, taking aim and shooting. With one shot to the chest, the convict was sent recoiling, another to the head, and he was down.

“Hey!” Rodan angrily pointed as now that the door guard was gone, they moved forward. “Don’t try to steal my brand like that!” Quickly stripping the man of anything they could use or sell, the monsters moved up.

“Hmph.” Kong snorted. “Not funny.”

“Oh, you know what, you can go to hell!” Godzilla replied, peeking around the corner, to see yet another convict. “I don’t need comedy advice from a guy who thinks the height of humor is flinging his own shit at people!”

The man’s eyes went wide, as he instantly brought his pistol up, squeezing the trigger as fast as he could. “Get back, fucker!” The convict bellowed.

Godzilla spluttered as he felt his skin give in his chest, and he ducked back around. “Ow! You _shot_ me, you asshole!” He scowled, looking to the others. “You gonna help, or what!?”

Kong tilted his head sardonically. “’Go to Hell.’”

“I believe you have the situation in hand.” Mothra evenly replied.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.” Godzilla scowled, bringing his rifle up, and his tail to use as an improvised shield. “Hey guys, wanna see if I can fire this one-handed?” He didn’t wait for a response as he dashed back out of cover, spasming in pain as he felt each one of the bullets tear into his tail. He marched forward slowly, and when the convict went to reload, Godzilla took that chance to strike.

Godzilla roared, shooting forward, picking the convict up, and throwing him into the wall so hard he could hear the resounding crack even over the ringing in his ears.

“…well, that was a bit overkill, don’t you think?” Rodan asked.

“Fucker shot me…” Godzilla angrily muttered, checking himself over. The bullets hadn’t penetrated, fortunately, but they _did_ wear down his armor-like scales. Had the guy shot him enough, he would’ve hit flesh.

“I’ll fix it when we solve this crisis.” Mothra gently told him, moving over to a door nearby. “Hm… locked, it seems.” She frowned, bringing her spike-like arms up to the lock.

Rodan scoffed. “You’re not going to try and-“

The lock clicked, and the door opened, Mothra turning around smugly.

“…How do?” Kong asked.

“My priestesses get their telekinetic gifts from _somewhere,_ you know.” Mothra perched herself on top of Godzilla’s head, satisfied with herself. “Now, I recommend we take that path. Sometimes stealth is more prudent than going in guns blazing.”

The door was access to a maintenance corridor, now just a one-way hallway thanks to the rubble blocking one branch of the junction. Walking through it, they came to yet another door, and Godzilla pulled it open, to a kitchen on the other side.

Inside, there was a man in leather armor, tied up on the floor. He caught sight of the monsters, and his eyes bugged out. Before he could start raising hell, however, Godzilla hushed him quietly.

A convict was at one of the stoves, cooking dinner for himself or his buddies, didn’t matter, but his attention was focused squarely on the pot, so he didn’t notice Godzilla’s rifle being leveled at him, the seeming rippling of the air as the king of the monsters focused, before he, the bullet taking the convict’s head clean off.

He was dead before his body even hit the floor, but, the bullet did have a secondary effect. Everyone who was in the kitchen was now alerted to their presence.

The convicts began clamoring, shouting over themselves, as they scrambled into action.

“Holy shit, a deathclaw! AND IT’S GOT A GUN!?”

“Hey, look, that guy has a flamethrower!” Rodan scowled, taking flight. He moved with such a speed over them that due to them _failing_ to lead their shots, he dodged the bullets shot at him. Once he got close to the convict leader, presumably, the guy with the flamethrower, he landed on the tank, and cut into it.

The moment the mixture of gasses inside made contact with Rodan’s fiery hands, it burst into flames, exploding all at once in a fireball that sent shrapnel everywhere, some of it even taking out part of the other convicts.

With the leader dead and their numbers cut into, the rest of the convicts fell quickly.

“Yeah!” Rodan strutted around, unscathed. “That’s what you get for trying to fight the Fire Demon with fire!”

“Rodan, you fucking idiot!” Godzilla snarled, grabbing him and pulling him up. “That could’ve killed us!”

“But it _didn’t_!” Rodan shot back, escaping. “Now, come on, let’s free this guy, get what we need to get, so you can stop being such a goddamn grouch!”

Godzilla held up a claw to retort, but it swiftly fell when he realized Rodan had a point. Yeah, he was being a bit of a grouch at the moment.

Turning around, he approached the terrified wastelander, the man’s eyes bugging out even further, before Godzilla simply pulled the gag out.

“Um, ah,” He gulped. “I don’t suppose you came here to rescue me? I’d cross my fingers, but my hands are numb.”

“Deputy Beagle, I presume?” Godzilla inquired.

The man went white, obviously disconcerted by the talking monster. “W-Why yes, I am. P-Pleasure to meet you, big… scary… deathclaw man.” He coughed. “As you can see, I’m in a bit of a predicament here. I’d be most appreciative if you set me free.”

“Oh, hold on.” Godzilla crossed his arms. He wasn’t freeing the guy _first_ so he could scarper and take his info with him to the aether. “I need information. You saw a guy, checkered suit, leading some Khans. I want to know where they’re heading.”

“Well, I would be _happy_ to volunteer that information with you,” Beagle smiled disarmingly, “After I’m released from my bondage.”

“Rodan, don’t start.” Godzilla ordered before the firebird could even start chortling. “You,” He pointed at Beagle, “Tell me _now,_ or I’ll put the same hurt on you as I did these powder gangers.” To back up his words, he began charging his spines, the air rippling with the energy of the act.

Beagle paled. “A-Alright!” He quickly conceded, and the charge faded. “They said they were heading through Nipton to Novac to meet a contact there. That’s all I know, I swear it.”

Godzilla nodded. “Alright.” He cut the man’s bindings. “Right, now get outta here.”

Beagle nodded, obviously still frightened out of his mind as he sprinted out of the building.

“Okay, so, all of this was a colossal goddamn waste of our time.” Rodan muttered.

“Not a _total_ waste,” Godzilla turned around to face him, “We know something new now.”

Mothra tilted her head. “Being?”

“These guys had another guy they met in Novac…” Godzilla rubbed his hands. “And we’re gonna ring him out for everything he knows.”

\-----------

After joining back up with Rex, and looting the bodies of course, the five monsters headed back across the bridge to the NCR outpost… but not after fixing up that old ball robot they found in the Mojave Express building.

Beagle was insistent that Primm needed a sheriff, and that he wasn’t qualified for the job. Given the choice between go to the NCRCF, fight through powder gangers and accidentally kill the guy, or fix up a robo-sheriff just for the job…

They chose the latter. Plus, it would get Godzilla closer to the sleep he so sought.

So, they (and by ‘they’ I obviously mean Mothra) fixed up the robot, ED-E, giving him a few little upgrades to help him out. The robot was confused at first, but by his own admission, in a strange language of chirps and beeps, he didn’t have anything better to do, or anywhere he had to be. And Primm was a sleepy enough town, so whatever trouble that did come was a problem that he could handle.

Thus, it was time to hit the road again. The NCR troopers, expectedly, didn’t give them any compensation for fixing this mess, but Hayes _did_ point them to Mojave outpost as a rest stop, just another twenty minutes down the road, and said that he’d send advanced warning so they weren’t shot on-sight.

Giving the man thanks enough for that, they set out.

The car held together as it took the busted, ancient ruined roads, blasting past a group of convicts trying to ambush anyone wandering the roads this late at night.

 _“And we're back. This is Mr. New Vegas, and I feel something magic in the air tonight. And I'm not just talking about the gamma radiation!”_ The radio personality chuckled, as soon as the last traces of Billie Holiday faded away. _“Whoops, better put on my newsman fedora, here...”_ The man cleared his throat. _“Primm formally swore in a new sheriff today. RNV reporters were on hand to hear the new sheriff address the crowd.”_

The five double-took as ED-E’s robotic beeps filtered out of the radio, a long speech that none of them were able to understand, but that wasn’t important.

“What the-?” Rex spluttered. “We were _just **there!**_ How’d those reporters send back the news so fast!?”

“I’m unsure…” Mothra’s eyes narrowed at the radio. “I’m sure there’s more to… Mr. New Vegas than we think.”

“Is he stalking us?” Godzilla turned around, growling. “I’ll put that to a stop right fucking quick.”

 _“That's the news. This is Mr. New Vegas, filling in for Mr. New Vegas.”_ The radio personality continued once the recording of ED-E cut out. _“You know, all this talk of convicts, sheriffs, and law reminds me of one of my very favorite songs… It’s Bobby Fuller, singing all about how he fought the law, and the law won, up next.”_

The drumbeat began in earnest, as Godzilla looked to the radio, before shrugging. “Eh… I prefer The Clash’s version.”

The king of the monsters barely fought back a yawn, as the car continued down the highway, towards Mojave Outpost.

\----------

“I…” Madison blinked. “Didn’t even know you could do that with ED-E.” Her bemused look suddenly turned to a scowl. “Hey, are they playing a modded game!? EL!”

El huffed, rolling her eyes. “No. It’s a bit easier to think outside the box when the box is a real thing.” She replied, taking down a few kernels of popcorn.

“They made it through Primm pretty quick though.” Mads commented, looking to her older reflection. “You’re not worried about them getting done too quick?”

Madison snorted. “’Speedrunning’ is not what this game is about. Trust me, he’s acting like once Benny’s dead, that’s it… poor, dumb Minilla doesn’t understand.”

\----------

“OH, THERE’S _MORE_!?” Jane chuckled sinisterly. “Excellent…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be my [Tumblr](https://d0ct0rp004ndtheturdis.tumblr.com/), yar!


	3. Heartaches by the Number

The drive to Mojave Outpost was punctuated with the minute fear that they wouldn’t know the place when they got to it.

The enormous statue of two people shaking hands dashed that pretty quick. In the dark of the night, the only other sources of light being the stars above and the lights of the Highwayman, it was like a nuclear explosion going off, able to be seen by anyone at a distance. The only other thing that came close was the strip.

Kong guided the car up the ruined highway hill with impressive ease. He couldn’t talk very well (or either he didn’t care to), and he probably couldn’t do math, but he could drive, something that still surprised Godzilla the more he thought about it.

At the apex of the hill climb, they were met with a small checkpoint, fences acting as a sort of bottleneck to the rest of the highway, with two buildings off on the side. NCR troops, the ones unlucky enough to be stationed on night watch, sat around, watching. There also looked to be some strange, two-headed cows leashed to the old streetlamps, each one carrying packs on their backs.

For the first time when they entered a new place, there was no terrified screams or shooting. Thanks to Hayes, presumably.

Kong pulled the car off to the side, and Godzilla was the first to hop out.

“Alright, you guys.” He hopped out. “Let me go in and see if I can cut a deal with them to let us stay the night. Wait out here.” He directed, with a stern look.

The others frustratedly sighed, as Godzilla walked through the opening of the perimeter fence, heading into the main office.

A man behind a desk looked up at him, eyebrows shooting up in shock.

“Hey,” Godzilla cringingly waved, “I’m Godzilla… Hayes sent word I was coming.”

“Oh, that was…” He blinked. “That was about _you_ …” He coughed, quickly pulling out what looked like a log sheet of some sort. “Sorry, caravan, citizen, pilgrim, or…?”

Godzilla frowned, before he realized what the man was asking of him, a description of why he was here. He struggled for a moment to think of how to put it into words, but… “King. Godzilla.”

The man looked up. “King?”

“I… preside over a civilization in… Indiana.” He cringed. “Hawkins.”

The officer whistled. “Indana… long way from home, my friend.” He jotted down the information. “Sorry about that, just needed something for the log book; keeping tabs on the traffic through the outpost… although mostly just _in,_ not out these days. If you’re looking for our commanding officer, look through there,” He jerked a thumb to the hallway, “Although, he’s got a lot on his plate, so keep it short. Also, if you need any gear checked, we can help with that too… as long as you sign the work orders and pay for the parts, of course.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Godzilla rumbled. “Who’re you?”

“Major Knight,” The man answered, “I’m the one who fills out most of the paperwork and whatnot around here. Requisitions, filing, stuff of that nature.”

Godzilla nodded. Just the man he needed to speak to… although, there was a thing he was curious about. “You said you’re not getting much _outbound_ traffic, how come?”

Knight sighed. “The roads aren’t safe, not with the powder gangers and the giant ants roaming around. Rest assured, we’re handling it.”

“Okay…” Godzilla skeptically frowned. He made a note to himself to talk to the CO and ask about the issue, especially if it would prevent _them_ from leaving as well. “All right, Knight, my crew and I need somewhere to shack up for the night. Can your people help us out with that?”

Knight frowned. “This outpost isn’t really a hotel. The only people allowed to make use of the beds in the barracks are NCR troops and the people we’ve held up here for an extended period of time. Sorry. I hear there _is_ a hotel in Novac, though. It’s not far from here, when you hit the road out of the outpost, go straight on down Nipton highway until you hit Searchlight, then start heading north on Highway 95.”

Godzilla let out a low, frustrated grumble. “And how long’s that gonna take?”

“About…” Knight shrugged. “Two hours, that’s _if_ you have a car.”

Godzilla bit his tongue, searching for a nearby clock. It was already late, by the time they got out there, it’d be one in the morning.

“Knight, please.” Godzilla pleaded. “One night, that’s all I’m asking. Hey, I took care of the powder gang problem in Primm, maybe I can help take care of those giant ants?”

“…It _would_ get the caravans moving again…” Knight mumbled. “But, I really can’t-“

“Hold on,” Another man interrupted, walking over. He was dressed like a cowboy, even had the bandana around his neck.

“Jackson, sir,” Knight began.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jackson crossed his arms, looking Godzilla up and down. “…You said you helped Primm?”

Godzilla nodded.

“And we heard a news story about Goodsprings fending off the powder gangers thanks to a talking deathclaw, that you too?” Jackson pressed.

Godzilla nodded again.

“Then you have my thanks.” Jackson held his hand out. Godzilla took it gingerly, trying not to rip the man’s arm out of its socket. “Both of those would’ve set us back a _long_ time. How many people are in your group?”

“Five,” Godzilla rumbled. “Including me.”

“…it’ll be a tight fit, but I assume since you all are traveling together, you all trust each other enough to share beds.” Jackson turned around. “Barracks are open. You can find the bar there too. You look like you need it.”

“Thanks.” Godzilla nodded, turning around to exit.

“Don’t mistake this as charity.” Jackson shot back. “I’m helping cause you helped us, either knowingly or not, clear?”

“Crystal.”

\---------

The barracks, as expected, were a cramped, crowded affair. There were only three beds open, meaning four of them would have to pair off.

…On mattresses that were sized for normal humans, not ten-foot-tall monsters. Still, they’d worked something out. Mothra and Godzilla were both the first to bed, the king looking like he would keel over at any moment from exhaustion, while Mothra perched atop him like a cat, watching the others moving around suspiciously to make sure none of the troops would try messing with him.

Kong had gone to bed as well, much more comfortable than the others given that he was a little bit smaller.

Rodan and Rex, however… they’d decided to stay in the bar. Unfortunately for the bargoers.

“So…” Rodan asked the NCR trooper next to him, a specialist by the name of Zach, who had the unfortunate privilege of communicating with the fire demon. “You fix guns?”

“That’s _all_ I do, is fix guns!” The man vented angrily, either fed up to the point where he didn’t care if anyone heard him, or just uncaring of what his peers thought in general. “That’s all I do _every_ day is fix guns, because everybody _breaks_ their guns in the _weirdest_ ways possible!”

Rodan tilted his head. “Now, come on, I know it can’t be that weird-“

“First day on the base, a guy comes up to me and he says ‘Hey, I broke my shotgun with the cheese grater on it.’” Zach crossed his arms. “And I’m like ‘Okay, two questions, one; CHEESE GRATER!? Two, how’d you break it?’ So he takes it out, shows it to me, and there’s a giant _mass_ of melted cheese stuck under the heat shield, cause, you know, it’s a _heat shield_ and not a cheese grater! The _IDIOT_ had been using his shotgun’s heat shield to slice cheese, and he did it a bit too soon after firing it, and he _kept_ doing it, so I had to spend three hours cleaning cheese out of the heat shield of a Mossberg 500!”

“Oh…” Rodan blinked. “Damn.”

Zach huffed, turning around. “Goddamnit, some days I wonder why I even bother with the morons at this place. If they were _marines,_ I’d understand, they’re _supposed_ to be stupid, which is why we all call them ‘jarheads,’ but this is the _army!”_

Rodan frowned. “If you’re so annoyed, why are you still here?”

Zach scowled. “I _can’t_ leave. Jackson’s all ‘Oh, road’s too dangerous, myeh, myeh, myeh,’ so he won’t accept my resignation.” He snorted, crossing his arms. “Bet if I was one of those cowboy hat-wearing fucks he’d let me go.”

“But… why _let_ him keep you here?” Rodan pressed.

Zach turned to him. “’Scuse me?”

“It’s not like he’s got you chained up here or anything.” Rodan replied. “Just… walk out.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just _walk_ out, how ingenious. It’s not like we’ve got a sniper on the roof who’ll see me and send word for people to drag me back to this godforsaken shit dump.”

“…dude, the NCR can’t even deal with a bunch of powder gangers, how do you think they’re going to handle one deserter?” Rodan proposed.

Zach, at that moment, looked like his brain was finally working, unimpeded by the idiocy of the outpost.

\----------

Rex, meanwhile, was at the bar. He carefully (very, _very_ carefully) sat down on one of the stools, asking the bartender, Lacey, to bring him something.

A few stools down to his right, there was a woman, wearing a cowboy hat dressed in a flannel shirt, going through so much whiskey that Rex swore her blood was probably mostly just the stuff by now.

The woman seemed to finally realize he was looking, and turned to him, scowling. “Looking for trouble?”

“Nope.” Rex quickly turned. “Just minding my business.”

“Your business, now there’s a store worth tending.” She retorted angrily. “You run along now… judging by that busted pilot light expression you’re fixed with, ‘business’ ain’t so good.”

“…Um, you know what, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Rex quickly backpedaled. “How about a drink? What is that, whiskey? Lacey, a bottle of whiskey, my good woman!”

The drunken woman huffed. “’How about a drink?’ How about _a couple_ is what you mean.” She shook her head, turning back to her glass. “Drinking to forget, and it’s only getting me mad instead. Whiskey always gets my temper up, now more than ever. Drinking used to cause all sorts of trouble back west, before I punched enough people, that is, and they learned to lay low once the whiskey hit.”

“Oh yeah?” Rex inquisitively tilted his head. “What’re you trying to forget?”

“Lost my caravan heading north, the driver burned to ash…” She reflected, her face twisting with grief and rage. “Didn’t even take the cargo; burned that too.”

Rex frowned. “Jeez… why would anybody _do_ something like that?”

“My guess it’s the Legion.” She weakly shrugged. “They’ve been trying to cut off NCR’s supply lines for a while now… Mojave outpost’s proof enough. Got us locked up tighter than a New Vegas virgin.”

Rex quietly chuckled, pushing out air, as Lacey _finally_ came back with the bottle of whiskey he asked for, and he slipped her some caps.

“No caravans in,” The drunk woman continued, “And just _try_ arguing with Jackson about it. ‘Roads aren’t safe,’ he says. No shit, you washed-out old fuckup! I didn’t need a Brotherhood Scribe to tell me that.”

“Jackson…” Rex frowned. “Wait, he’s the guy in charge, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Been with NCR so long, he can only see the worst outcome for everything, so he doesn’t _do_ anything. Jackson won’t let me head north cause it’s not safe… and even with my caravan dead and gone, my caravan papers are keeping me here.”

“Hm…” Rex frowned. “I could take it off your hands, if you want.”

“Ha!” She laughed. “No offense scales, but I’m not about to sell away my name for a handful of caps…” She sighed looking back to her glass. “Not ready to just toss it all away just yet… you know?”

“Yeah.” Rex nodded. “Well, in that case, let’s pour one out for your caravan, huh?”

“Shit, a toast?” She scowled. “For me? You must be fuckin’ insane.”

Rex flinched. “God no. I said for your caravan, are you deaf?”

She laughed again. “Shit, I might be, after listening to the same shit playing on the jukebox in here… what the hell.” She pushed her glass over, “Have at it.”

Rex unscrewed the cap, pouring one out, before some for himself.

He didn’t know if he could get drunk…

Probably not.

\-----------

“Hnng…” Rex groaned as the light hit his eyelids. The bed he was in shook, and for a moment, he wondered what the hell that was about, before he looked up, to see Godzilla shaking the post.

“Hey _asshole,_ are you dead?” Godzilla growled.

“Um… no?” Rex smacked his lips as he awoke. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to wake you the hell up before you make a mistake, guess I failed at that.” Godzilla scowled.

“What?” Rex blinked. “Why would-“

“You were _supposed_ to be keeping Rodan out of trouble.” Godzilla crossed his arms. “Now, he’s gone convinced a guy to desert his post. We’re lucky nobody realized it was him.”

“…aw, crap.” Rex flopped back.

“Oh, that’s not the worst part!” Godzilla patronizingly replied. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a thing for redheads?”

“…uh, what?” Rex flatly responded.

“Cass, the woman from the bar.” Godzilla stared him down.

“…I hope this isn’t going where I think-“

“Oh, it is.” Godzilla cut him off. “Kept us up _all_ night. She’s a screamer, that one, apparently.”

“H-Hey now,” Rex sat up, looking around. She was gone… there was that, at least. “I’m only like, thirteen-“

“In human years.” Godzilla countered. “But mentally and in dinosaur years, you’re fucking ancient.” He narrowed his eyes. “Rex… you’d _really_ better hope that the women here aren’t… compatible with you, otherwise, I’m leaving your ass here to sort it out.”

“Eh, whatever.” Rex flippantly waved his hand as he got up. “It wouldn’t be the first bastard child I’ve sired.”

“Wait, there’s _more_!?” Godzilla questioned.

“…I’m a lot older than I look.” Rex scratched his spines.

“So, wait, there’s at least a few more little rexes running around out there?” Godzilla tilted his head. “Do you visit?”

“Are you kidding!?” Rex spluttered. “What kind of father would I be if I let someone like _me_ hang around my kids!?”

“Hmph,” Godzilla snorted, “Better one than mine. Come on,” He ordered, waving Rex along. “It’s already daylight out, we’d best get moving quick.”

“Yeah, uh…” Rex coughed. “Cass isn’t at the bar again, is she?”

“She is.”

 _“Fuck_.”

“Relax. I’m sure she wouldn’t notice you even if you sought her out.” Godzilla replied, walking effortlessly past the drinking woman, opening the door and ushering Rex through.

Mothra, Rodan, and Kong were already all in the car, waiting expectantly. The lightness of the packs were an indication that they sold off all the old junk again, and were ready to move on.

“Geez, you guys weren’t about to wait up, were you?” Rex grumbled, climbing into the back, the suspension creaking under the weight of his body.

“Asleep.” Kong rumbled as Godzilla climbed in as well.

“Yeah, you looked like you needed it after last night.” Rodan concurred.

“God,” Rex rubbed his face, “Look, can we drop it and just move on?”

“Yeah, why not.” Godzilla shrugged. “…for now. Hit it, Monkey Man.”

Kong barred his teeth, but cranked the car, and charged down the hill down Nipton highway.

Mothra reached over, turning on the radio, ready for the long drive ahead.

 _“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. This is Mr. New Vegas. Thank you very very much for listening.”_ The charismatic voice began with an audible smile. _“We've got some news for you, coming right up._ _The Black Mountain radio signal is back after a long absence. Listeners say the new programming is, quote, less for outcasts, more for weirdos. In other news; Patrons of the Ultra-Luxe are questioning whether its pricey restaurant, the Gourmand, is overstating the fullness of its wait-list. Those who claim to have dined at the restaurant find the food appealing but say many tables remain empty. In New Vegas, we know the pain that numbers can bring us. Well, so does Guy Mitchell, who's got ‘Heartaches by the Number.’”_

The song started up, and Mothra turned the dial down just a tad.

“So,” Mothra turned around to face the leader of their little party. “What are we to do once we arrive at the Vegas Strip, hmm?”

“Well, like I said, we know the guy’s _from_ the strip, not that he’s heading back around that way.” Godzilla corrected.

“You’re deflecting my question.” Mothra accused. “What happens once we find this man, what are you going to do, kill him?”

Godzilla sighed. “Look, I don’t _know_ , but I’m at least certain El’s gonna pull us back once we- whoa!” Godzilla shot up, looking in the distance. Enormous columns of smoke were rising from far in the distance. “…please don’t tell me that’s in our way.”

Rodan looked to him, deadpan. “That’s where the road’s going.”

“Shit.” Godzilla flopped down. “Alright, Kong, hit it. If those guys are in trouble, we’re gonna deal with it.”

“Great, great, absolutely fantastic.” Rodan grumbled. “You do know that smoke usually means things are on _fire,_ right?”

“Course I do.” Godzilla replied with a troublemaking grin. “But why play it safe out here when we can get up close to the action?”

\---------

Godzilla regretted those roads the _nanosecond_ they got within visual range. The smoke was coming from Nipton. The town had been destroyed, utterly ransacked.

As they slowly moved through the devastation, the monsters all fought back their budding, repulsed horror. Decapitated heads on pikes marked the boundaries of the town, their faces forever locked in grimaces of terror and pain. Further in, charred skeletons, so burnt beyond recognition that none of them could tell who had been male or female.

And that wasn’t mentioning the crosses… whoever did this had taken some poor, unfortunate people, some Powder Gangers and NCR troopers even among them, and had them nailed to crosses lining the main road.

It got to be too much, and Rex was the first to crack, leaning over the side of the car to empty the contents of his stomach.

“Jesus…” Godzilla rumbled in horror. He thought he’d seen the stuff of nightmares at the hands of the mind flayer, but this? This… this kind of calculating torture was only human. Maybe…

Anyone who would include children in this… demented beyond reason act didn’t deserve to be called human.

Even Kong looked disturbed by it.

But Mothra, however… Mothra was the perfect picture of fury. Her normal, calm blue hues gave way for furious reds, and the air rippled around her in rage.

“…I’m going to find who did this.” Mothra growled. “And they are going to _die_.”

“You’ll have to get in line.” Godzilla told her, as the car continued. They were about to pass through entirely, Godzilla unsure if he should look around, when a door slamming in the distance caught their attention.

A squad of men dressed in red-hues were coming out of what appeared to be the town all, along with a couple of dogs.

“Are those…” Rodan frowned. “ _Romans_!? I haven’t seen those guys in a couple of millennia!”

Mothra took one look at the lone man wearing a dog-skin hat, and shot forward like a bullet, crossing hundreds of feet so quickly she almost broke the sound barrier. She let out a trilling cry, filled with rage and vengeance, as she brought up her stinger, and ran it right through the leader’s head.

She pulled it out with a sickening, wet squelch, as the man’s subordinates, wearing flags with bull against a red background similar to the flags hanging around, drew their weapons.

Godzilla leapt out of the back first, running to close the distance with such swiftness and impulsiveness that he didn’t even bother to use the gun, as he ran his claws through one of them, _stomping_ the mangy, feral dog that these… monsters commanded.

Rex chose to stay at a distance, using his atomic breath to take out the remaining two.

The battle was over in mere seconds, and all of them were soaked in blood.

“Mothra… that was… that was stupid.” Godzilla breathed. “Why would you-Why did you _do_ that!? You just _murdered_ that guy in cold blood! Not even self-defense!”

“They bore the same sigil on those flags hanging around.” Mothra quietly pointed out. “This isn’t murder… it’s justice. My only regret is that I can’t bring them back to kill them again.”

“Mothra, that’s horrible…” Godzilla stammered.

“It is a _kindness_ compared to what they leveled on this town.” Mothra retorted. “Come let us move on to Novac… unless you wish to look around.

Godzilla did a quick sweep with his head, and very swiftly decided that no, he didn’t want to look around further. Not if they were going to wind up finding any more stuff just as grizzly.

Godzilla swallowed, making a note of the look of the place and these… savages that put it in this state. “Let’s get back on the road.” He climbed back in the seat. “We need to tell somebody what happened. Kong! Take us back around to Mojave Outpost.”

Kong slowly turned around, looking at Godzilla like he was stupid. “We come this way for Novac, is all you talk about… now you want to turn around?”

“Do _you_ want to have a guilty conscience?” Godzilla crossed his arms. “No? Then get us the _fuck_ back to the outpost.”

\-----------

“…the Legion!?” Jackson paled upon being told of the flag-bearing savages wearing cheap imitations of Roman garb. “This far west?”

“Uh…” Godzilla swallowed. “The Legion? Is that who they are?”

Jackson looked at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t know? You said you came from Indiana? You would’ve had to pass through Legion territory! They control a good bit of Arizona, Utah-“

“I came around from the north.” Godzilla deflected. “Who are these guys?”

“Caesar’s Legion…” Jackson frowned, trying to put it into words. “The… brutalest, cruelest, meanest group of raping, pillaging, slavers ever to stain the face of the wasteland.”

Godzilla straightened up. “What?”

Jackson sighed. “It’s a long story, but I’ll give you the short version. The Legion is a ‘society’ that values strength above all else. They’re utterly ruthless, and… what you saw in Nipton was the _tip_ of a vulgar iceberg… Entire settlements dragged away in the night, the men executed, the children indoctrinated, the women put to work as sex slaves… There’s not many stories of people who escape them, and those that do… they’re not the same afterward.”

“God… damn.” Godzilla cursed, the horror and anger bubbling up. “Can’t you people _do_ anything!?”

“Closest we came to kicking their asses was a few years ago at Hoover Dam.” Jackson shrugged weakly. “Since then, we haven’t had the manpower or resources to take the Legion in a straight up fight. If they’re pushing this far west of the Colorado… that’s it. There’s no way we can take them.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “Look, it’s heavy shit, I’m sorry that you had to see that. But, you did bring a status update on Nipton, and cleared the roads on your way back, that’s more than you had to do. I… can’t offer you much.” He apologized, even as he walked over to a crate with an old padlock, opening it up, taking out a bottle of glowing orange liquid.

Godzilla had already seen the Nuka-Cola laying around the wasteland sparsely, some of it being sold at vendors, but he’d never seen this variant of it. Nuka-Cola Victory.

“I know it doesn’t _look_ like much,” Jackson said, passing him the bottle. “But this stuff is rarer than a rainstorm in the Divide. It’s from _my_ stash, so don’t worry about rangers hunting you down to take it back.”

Godzilla blinked.

“…bad joke?” Jackson asked.

“A little… but still, thanks.” Godzilla said, placing the bottle in the pack Mothra made for him. “Is there… anything _I_ can do to help?”

Jackson sighed. “I wish… but no. Best you can do is just try to stay out of the crossfire.”

Godzilla slowly nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned, going to leave. “Good luck, Jackson, with everything.”

“Same to you.”

\-----------

Hitting the road again and heading back through Nipton was a sobering affair. The passengers all had to avert their eyes from being consumed by anger yet again, save for Kong, who had to keep focused on the road.

Once Nipton was behind them again, they all relaxed, only just slightly.

Most of them were still rendered tense by what they had seen, just how _brutal_ this wasteland could be… it wouldn’t leave them quickly.

Godzilla finally sighed, reaching into his pack for one of those sodas he’d picked up on the way. Not the Victory, but the bog-standard variant of it.

“…Hey, Mothra?” He asked of her, causing her to turn around. “Is there a way you can make this thing cold again and give it back it’s fizziness?”

“…I don’t see why it shouldn’t be possible.” Mothra replied. “Temperature is just the movement of atoms, and the elements responsible for carbonation should still be present… give it here?”

Godzilla handed her the bottle, and Mothra seemed to stare at it, before the bottle of the brown, knockoff-Coke began to fog up, the beverage beginning to fizz up by itself.

Mothra handed the bottle back to him, and Godzilla gladly took it. “Finally, getting some use out of those nature-altering powers.” He commented as he popped off the cap, putting it away with the rest of their money, before he went to go for a sip.

The taste of it was surprising. It didn’t taste anything _remotely_ like Coke, but it did taste almost like… Dr Pepper, sort of. There was no real one taste to put his finger on, it just tasted like its own thing. Still, it was good, and he could taste the telltale signs of _real_ sugar, but there was something else that Godzilla noticed.

A familiar itching heat spreading through him, taking over his sore body, melting away all the pain he’d been feeling since their arrival.

“Holy shit…” Godzilla rumbled as he stopped drinking, feeling the power spreading through him instinctively, causing his wounds to heal more rapidly. “Guys, I think this stuff is radioactive!”

“No,” Rodan turned to him, “You’re joking.”

“Do I _look_ like I’m joking?” Godzilla cocked his head in a deadpan manner. “Oh, shit, this is good… How many bottles of the stuff do we have?”

“About…” Rex looked through the bag for him. “Twenty-two.”

“Jesus.” Rodan coughed. “How many vending machines did you idiots loot?”

“Not enough.” Godzilla finished off the bottle and looked ahead. “My friends we are on the _cusp_ of a great, moneymaking idea. These people out here, they’re used to hardships, struggle, perpetually warm and flat sodas… We have the power to change that. Imagine how much these people will be willing to pay for a cold, carbonated beverage that only exists in their dreams? But we need to find more. On the double!”

Mothra looked at him, deadpan. “You just want to get more of that stuff for yourself, don’t you?”

“…that obvious?”

\-----------

The ride up to Novac, mercifully, was mostly free of conflict after the Nipton… kerfuffle. There were only two points of issue, once where a group of Viper Gunslingers tried to ambush them on the highway, with the advantage of mines and the high ground, and another where they ran into more of the Legion, whence they _swiftly_ took care of them as well.

Rolling into Novac, there were gawkers, yes, but like the Mojave Outpost from before, no one fired at them, probably courtesy of the people at Ranger Station Charlie just down the road.

Pulling into a hotel parking lot, the monsters disembarked, looking around.

“All right, here we are… Novac.” Godzilla commented, looking around. Out in front of the hotel, there was another one of those strange robots like the one they’d accidentally crushed back in Goodsprings, only this one was operational, an icon of the head of Vegas Vic on the screen. Townsfolk were dispersed around, looking at them curiously, before going about their days.

“Okay everybody,” Godzilla looked to each one, “Split up, ask around about Checkered-Suit. We’ll meet back up here in about… an hour.” He decided. “Ready?” He asked, causing each one to nod. “Then let’s get to it.”

\-----------

Godzilla started out by electing to go ask the cowboy robot. Robots had perfect memories, didn’t they? If the robot saw the guy, it would remember him.

“Uh, hi there.” Godzilla approached.

The robot rolled back on its singular wheel slightly, tilting back to look up at Godzilla. “Well, howdy there pardner!” It spoke in a thick, Texan accent with a male voice. “What can old Victor do you for?”

“Hey…” Godzilla tilted his head. “I’ve seen a robot like you before. It was a town called Goodsprings…”

“Well, shucks, friend!” Victor replied with a chuckle. “I used to live out that way too! I’m a Securitron, RobCo Security Model 2060b. You see any of my brothers, tell ‘em Victor says howdy… there’re whole bunches of them on the Strip I hear, that’s where I’m heading. Got the notion to head outta town and mosey on to New Vegas for…well... Hm. I can’t quite seem to recall. Odd. Suppose I’ll find out when I get there.”

“Oh, really?” Godzilla crossed his arms, tilting his head. “So, you’re here as a pit stop? How long have you been here?”

“I can’t say it’s been too long a minute.” Victor answered, adjusting himself. “Oh, about… a day, maybe two.” The robot’s screen flickered, the picture of the cowboy icon flickering for a moment before returning to normal.

Godzilla nodded slowly, before a brainwave suddenly hit him.

Johnson Nash had mentioned that a cowboy robot hired the Mojave Express to deliver the chip that got Courier Six shot…

Could it be…?

“Victor,” Godzilla addressed, desperately. “This is very important. You said you came from Goodsprings, right? A Courier was transporting a package out that way, got shot, the package stolen, and now _I’m_ tracking the package down. A Platinum Poker Chip. Was that your package?”

Victor, for some reason, seemed to totally lock up, his servos whirring and working only to keep himself stabilized. His screen flickered, before he finally returned to life.

“Well, shoot, I can’t say I can recall anything about a Platinum Chip.” Victor finally responded. “Sounds mighty strange though… can’t much think of a reason why anyone would want somethin’ so… useless.”

Godzilla narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The robot was hiding something, he was sure of it. But still, if the robot was playing dumb, he probably wouldn’t be able to weasel the info out of him.

But, it did make Godzilla wonder. Was that robot they’d accidentally destroyed a counterpart of it? Maybe not… Victor didn’t mention another robot. Was it possible that the robot they crushed was _also_ Victor? Maybe, he said that he lived in Goodsprings, but the only robot they ever saw evidence of was the one they crushed. Perhaps that crushing the original Victor caused his programming to wake up in another robot?

No, no… that was stupid.

“Well, thanks for that anyway.” Godzilla rubbed his face. “Can you at least tell me if you saw the jackasses responsible? Guy wearing a black and white checkered suit, couple of great khans following him?”

“Hm… can’t say I saw anyone like that, sorry friend.” Victor apologized. “But some of the folks around here might’ve seen some folks like that.”

“Alright,” Godzilla turned away, to go ask some others. “Thanks, Vic.”

“Happy trails!” Victor wished.

As Godzilla walked away, however, he didn’t notice as Victor’s screen flickered, changing from the normal cowboy image to a green-tinted image of an almost Howard Hughes-looking face, before it quickly shifted back to Victor’s normal face.

\--------

Mothra gingerly pushed into the front office of the hotel, as an aging woman, wearing thick-rimmed glasses looked up from her tasks.

“Hello there.” Mothra waved her wings carefully.

The woman looked dumbstruck, before she quickly stood up. “Well, welcome to you!” She greeted. “You look tired from the road. Why don’t you relax a spell, let this fine town take care of you?”

“Well, that would be nice, but we came here for different purposes…” Mothra coughed. “My name is Mothra, and you are…?”

“Oh!” The woman clutched her pearls. “What am I doing? I got to thinking about making a good first impression and plain forgot to tell you my name. I’m Jeannie May. I take care of folks here at the hotel… long as they aren’t troublemakers.”

Oh, well, shit that was their five-idiot band right out then.

Mothra frowned to herself as she looked the woman up and down. She seemed like a nice enough lady, but far too sweet. Either it was an act, or…

She just _was_ that sweet.

Still, Mothra was here on business, not to make friends. “My friends and I are trying to track down a man in a checkered coat. Have you seen anyone like that?”

Immediately, Jeannie May’s expression turned sour. Seems those guys were not popular characters.

“Well, he may have been wearing a fancy suit, but he wasn’t any kind of a gentleman to me.” She huffed. “Had his nose stuck so high in the air, you couldn’t see it above the clouds. City folk. They always think they deserve better than what they got.” She sniffed derisively, shaking her head. “Those hoodlums he was with seemed to know Manny for some reason. He’s our daytime sniper, up in the dinosaur’s mouth.”

“Ah…” Mothra blinked. “Dinosaur’s mouth?”

“You can get up through the gift shop.” Jeannie May directed. “Oh, and do stop to tell Cliff hello. He always likes meeting new folk.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, thank you.” Mothra politely bowed, turning to exit, now hot on the trail of their quarry once again.

“Watch out for strangers!” May kindly advised, as Mothra exited.

\---------

“Who sent you!?” An old, frazzled man wearing clothes made of stitched-together old rags frantically asked of Kong. “I ain’t talking! They tried to get me to talk before, but I didn’t say nothing! And I don’t aim to now, by gum!”

Kong snorted, furrowing his brow. “Me no harm.”

“We’ll just see about that!” The old man retorted. “You don’t come any closer, else I’m liable to stick you with my stickin’ knife! Ol’ Sticky’s feeling mighty ornery this day.”

Kong blinked, stepping back. “Talk… from here.”

“You sure?” The old coot asked in response. “It’s kinda hard to hear you.”

“…you said stick me.” Kong frowned.

“Well, speak up then!” He shot back. “But not so loud that _They_ hear you. They got people everywhere, always listening. They call me No-bark Noonan… not They with the big T, they with the little t.”

“…’no bark?’” Kong repeated.

“Cause they know I ain’t just barkin’!” Noonan replied cantankerously. “They know there’s _bite_ behind what I say, cause it’s the _truth_. Them quack doctors can say all they want about the radscorpion stings what pierced my skull, I done _know_ what I’ve seen!”

“Hmph.” Kong harumphed. “What did… see?”

“There’s been things of a disturbing nature going on at the McBride Corral.” Noonan conspiratorially whispered. “Every night one of their herd meets a most _unnatural_ death, and there’s always holes all over the body. I say it’s the work of the Chupacabra!”

“Chupa… thingy.” Kong grunted.

“The livestock vampire!” Noonan gestured wildly. “But they don’t pay no mind! Too many holes, they say, and there’s always bullets. Well, we’ve got a Chupacabra with a automatic weapon! Then they go real quiet, cause they recognize the predicament we’re in. I even saw the Chupacabra with my own two eyes! I was out late, looking for a special Gecko! An angry beast that breathes atomic fire and is bigger than Dinky the Dinosaur! That’s when I saw it. He was the meanest, ugliest Chupacabra you could imagine. Had two heads! And fangs that went down to the ground! Best I could tell anyways, since when he came up, he was invisible. Had himself a blunderbuss what would rotate and shoot bullets real fast out of a backpack! Never seen _nothing_ like it. Walked right past me having an argument with somebody. Best I could tell anyway, since the other one was _more_ invisible!”

“Um… me go now.” Kong began backpedaling to get away.

“If anyone asks, we never spoke!” Noonan quickly replied, but he looked like a thought suddenly hit him. “Be careful if I was you! That car you got is _bad_ mojo. Belonged to a Chosen One from a tribal village that saved the wasteland from the Shadow Government, and traveled around with a speakin’ Deathclaw! His restless spirit’s gonna come and haunt it, then go and turn on the factories to build a new master race of sentient vehicles!”

Kong decided to make like a banana and split right then and there.

\----------

The door clicked shut behind her as Mothra entered the T-Rex Gift Shop. True enough to Jeannie May’s word, the place was a gift shop with knick nacks and pointless objects for travelers to take as keepsakes, and from the looks of things, it was also an actual general store, selling food and supplies like ammunition and weapons.

The aging black man behind the desk caught Mothra’s entrance, and he was on his feet in an instant. “Welcome, to the Dino Bite Gift Shop! Name’s Cliff Briscoe! If you’re here for the t-rex figurines, you’re just in time, there’s still a few left.”

“Ah…” Mothra cleared her throat. “Not quite, I’m afraid. What all do you sell here, Mr. Briscoe?”

“Well, there’s the t-rex figurines, of course. That’s our bread and butter.” Cliff answered. “We also have an assortment of the REPCONN factory souvenirs - rockets, things of that nature.”

Really? That didn’t make sense to her. Those things would likely just be dead weight to anyone traveling the wasteland. And if they were figurines, they wouldn’t _do_ anything, just sit there!

Man, the people here were _weird_.

“I need access to the dinosaur’s mouth.” Mothra told him, making a note to come back around to pick up supplies when they got ready to head out of town. “May I proceed up?”

“Sure, go on ahead.” Cliff gestured to the small staircase next to the counter. “Just be careful. Mighty cramped up there.”

“Thank you.” Mothra bowed slightly, turning to climb up the steps. Opening the door, she walked through carefully, and the sniper on-duty turned around to look at her. “Greetings. My name is Mothra, and you would be…?”

“Manny Vargas,” He answered, looking back through his scope. “The daytime sniper. You see a rifle barrel poking out up here, you’ve got a 50/50 shot it’s me or Boone.”

“I see.” Mothra tilted her head. “What are you guarding against?”

“You name it. Anything within a thousand yards that looks like trouble.” Manny replied, punctuating his point by taking out a giant ant crawling in the distance. “Lately we’ve been getting ghouls, out from REPCONN, to the west of here. Quite a few, last couple of days.”

Mothra quizzically chittered. “My apologies… Ghouls?”

“Don’t worry, nothing I can’t handle.” Manny told her, missing out on the actual question she was asking. “The big threat is the Legion coming from the east. If they attack with a full force, they’ll run us over. But so far, we’ve been lucky.”

Legion to the east… Mothra made a note of it so when they were done here, they could go and _dismantle_ the camp.

Mothra scratched the underside of her chin. “You mentioned a Boone, is he an associate of yours?”

“He’s the nighttime sniper.” Manny explained patiently. “I’d introduce you but, ah… we’re not so friendly right now.”

Mothra inquisitively tilted her head. “Oh? How so?”

Manny sighed. “Me and his wife didn’t see eye-to-eye on some things… had some pretty big arguments. One day, she turns up missing, and he hasn’t said a word to me since. Look, that’s between me and him, don’t worry about it.”

“Very well.” Mothra clicked her mandibles. Something was _off_ about this place… “There’s one more thing I’d like to ask of you. A man in a checkered jacket passed through this town. Have you seen him?”

That caught the man’s _full_ attention. He sat down his rifle, turning around to look at her properly. “Sure I know him.” Manny nodded, crossing his arms in her direction as he faced her properly now. “What do you want with him?”

Mothra settled for a _version_ of the truth. “He killed a person we were familiar with. We want to know why.”

“Hm…” Manny nodded. “Sorry about that. Must’ve been pretty important to go chasing somebody across the wastes. Well listen, I can help you find him, but I’ve got problems of my own.”

Oh boy, here came the ‘I’ll help, but first, you’ve gotta help _me_ ’ talk.

“Maybe we can do a trade.” Manny suggested, shifting his weight. “I need your help, you need mine.”

“…very well.” Mothra sighed. Godzilla might not be happy, her going around and agreeing to take on jobs for the locals, but he’ll understand once she explains. “My group can lend our assistance.”

Manny nodded. “Great. Some ghouls have nested in the old REPCONN facility up the street, and they’re fighting anybody that gets near the place. That normally wouldn’t be a problem, ghouls hole up in old buildings all the time, but the scrap the town gets from that place is how the people out here make a living, trading it for supplies and the like. No scrap, no Novac, you understand?”

“I see your predicament,” Mothra nodded, “But why don’t you handle it yourself?”

“I’ve gotta keep my focus up here.” Manny answered. “The Legion took Nelson not long ago, and I have to keep my eye on them. All it takes for them to _sense_ weakness before they descend on us like a bunch of vultures.”

“So, you’re too busy up here, I understand.” Mothra chittered. Seeing what the Legion did to Novac, Manny’s paranoia was well-warranted. “What is it you want us to do?”

Manny shrugged. “That’s up to you. Kill them all, run them off, get them to leave peacefully, that’s up to you. As long as they’re gone, that’s good enough for me.”

“…all right.” Mothra nodded one last time. “We have ourselves a deal.”

\-----------

Meeting back at the car, needless to say, the others were _not_ happy at first.

“Aw, come _on_!” Rodan squawked. “You could’ve just _beat_ it out of him!”

Mothra looked at him, unimpressed, and crossed her arms. “That’s not how I do things.”

“Well, you could’ve _threatened_ to beat it out of him!” Rodan corrected.

Godzilla let out a growling sigh. “No one’s threatening or beating anything out of anybody. Mothra,” He looked to her, “Are you _sure_ you had to go and do that?”

“I could’ve simply persuaded him, I’m sure,” Mothra flared her wings out for a second, “But… well, he made a very good point as to why this town needs the help. If we _don’t_ assist, it’s possible that Novac will no longer be able to sustain itself economically. This is _bigger_ than just trying to get home as quickly as possible. These people are real, their lives have weight, do not forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Godzilla sighed, nodding. “…All right. We’ll help Manny with his ghoul problem. The REPCONN facility is just up this road,” He jerked a thumb to the stretch of tarmac in front of the hotel, “Right?”

“Right.” Mothra nodded. A man wearing an NCR beret and sleeveless jacket walked past, looking at them with a bemused expression, before going into one of the bungalows around the back of the hotel.

“…man, I hate country bumpkins, always sticking their nose in everybody’s business.” Rodan grumbled.

“I think the people out here are nice.” Rex shrugged. “Not cool… but nice enough. We should help.”

“That’s what we’re doing.” Godzilla nodded. “Kong,” He turned to the ape, “You mentioned that Noonan said something about a Chupacabra?”

Kong nodded. “Chupathingy.” He snorted.

“Well, call me squeamish, but I still don’t feel good about dynamite in an enclosed space, so, you’ll stay here and help out with that.” Godzilla directed. “The old fart’s probably just a crackpot, but if there’re bullets, then it could mean someone’s killing the livestock to put the town in some dire straits. Mothra,” He turned to her yet again, glancing at Victor nearby, before lowering his voice, “That robot knows more than it’s letting on, I think. I want you to stay here too, keep an eye on it, _discreetly_.”

Mothra snorted. “Oh, _please_. I’m not Rodan. I can be stealthy.”

“Hey!” Rodan squawked again.

“Now, you two,” Godzilla looked to Rex and Rodan, “You’re with me.” He ordered, guiding them onto the road. “It’s about a twenty-minute walk down the street, they said, let’s get to it.”

With their assignments handed off to them, the team of monsters, for the first proper time since arriving (Goodsprings didn’t count, they were all working towards the same objective and only about five minutes apart at any given moment) the monsters split up, ready to help out the people of Novac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be my [Tumblr](https://d0ct0rp004ndtheturdis.tumblr.com/), yar!


	4. Come Fly With Me

The road down to REPCONN was, as the residents of Novac said, mostly quiet and empty. But, it _was_ a goddamned lie when they said it was just a twenty-minute walk. The one thing they came across was an emaciated human, their skin sloughed off and bits of their flesh glowing.

It looked like someone who’d been standing too close to a bomb blast… and was still kicking despite it.

“Jesus…” Rex looked at it, feeling the warmth of radiation coming from the glowing corpse. “What _is_ that?”

“Must be one of those ‘ghouls’ Manny mentioned.” Godzilla reasoned, frowning. “You know… it occurs to me that we don’t actually _know_ what half of the stuff out here is.”

“Yeah?” Rodan scoffed. “So?”

“So, first it’s giant bugs, now it’s _zombies_ that give off radiation.” Godzilla looked at him deadpan. “And the guy said it like it wasn’t out of the ordinary to him. If this is what people around here think is _normal…_ what kind of other freaky shit is out there?”

“I dunno, the way things are going…” Rodan shrugged. “Floating gasbags that sing Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Godzilla looked at him, unimpressed. “Cute.” He replied, moving along. “I wonder why he was glowing like that though? I mean, I’ve heard tales of desperate enough people eating pretty much _everything,_ but I think eating _uranium_ is a bit of a stretch… ‘Damn, I’m hungry! Let me just eat this glowing rock I found, I’m sure that’ll fix it!’”

“ _You_ eat uranium, dipshit.” Rodan shot back.

“Yeah, well, my body can metabolize it, what’s his excuse?” Godzilla shot back, leading them up the hill, through a ruined bypass.

Down the road, there was what appeared to be an old lookout post or something, set up by the scavengers that used to come around, but now abandoned. There was all sorts of junk everywhere, bottlecaps used as improvised checkers, and even a bottle of glowing white nuka cola.

“These guys left in quite a hurry…” Godzilla commented, picking up the bottle. “Nuka-Cola Quartz? I haven’t seen these lying around too much…”

“Maybe it’s a rarer variant?” Rex suggested.

“Yeah… Which begs the question why anybody would ever leave one out here by itself in the first place!” Godzilla commented. He frowned, quickly stashing it. “Still, it’s free money.” He turned around, to continue onto the facility, stopping as at the steps of the building, there was a crowd of the same, emaciated zombie-like ghouls standing around. “Oh, look, Burning Man’s in town…” He drew his gun, taking aim. “Get outta here, you hippies!” He yelled, firing, which alerted all the ghouls to his position.

The thin, skeletal humanoids sprinted towards them, screeching ferally.

“No!” Godzilla yelled, shooting one down that got too close. “I’m not here to take interviews! No comment!” He shouted, as the last one fell. “Damn paparazzi…” He muttered, looking to the others. “What?”

“Did you _finally_ crack?” Rodan asked.

“…look, this place is a freaking depressing-ass desert.” Godzilla scowled, walking up the steps. “Forgive me for trying to inject a little _levity_ into the situation…” He muttered, crossing the threshold into the REPCONN building proper.

\-------------

Back in Novac, Mothra had been keeping her post atop the car, watching Victor as he merely stood there, looking back and forth at _nothing,_ adjusting himself on his wheel.

Godzilla was crazy. A robot like Victor? Hide something when he could barely even keep himself upright? Not likely.

Very swiftly becoming _bored_ just watching over a robot that wasn’t doing anything, Mothra took flight, hovering around, deciding to investigate the town further. The sun was already starting to set, and it looked like Manny was coming down from his post. Five minutes later, another man, wearing very simplistic clothing with a beret similar to Manny’s walked out of his room, going to the dinosaur.

That must’ve been the nighttime sniper.

Mothra _was_ just going to let him go up in peace, but… something about the man drew her attention. Not in any untoward way, but she could almost… _see_ the turmoil surrounding him like it was a glow.

Making her choice then, Mothra elected to go through the gift shop, as not to startle the man. She shut the door behind her, and the man jumped, startled, whipping around.

“Goddammit!” Boone cursed, sounding severely pissed off. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” The way he spoke was tempered, restrained… but she could still sense underlying tones of anger. “What do you want?”

“Oh, my apologies.” Mothra bowed. “I had heard you were the nighttime sniper, so I wished to come see you for myself.”

“Hmph…” Boone looked her up and down suspiciously. “Why are you here?”

“…I just shared that with you-“

“No, not here, talking to me.” Boone growled. “Here, in Novac.”

“Ah,” Mothra flashed with embarrassment. “My colleagues and I are chasing a criminal. We stopped off here just to ask around and got roped in, I’m afraid.”

Boone narrowed his eyes. “…you just got into town… good. You shouldn’t go, not just yet.”

“Oh?” Mothra tilted her head. “Why, pray tell?”

“I need someone I can trust.” Boone answered. “You’re a stranger… that’s a start.”

“You… trust strangers?” Mothra bemusedly replied.

“I said it was a _start_.” Boone replied through gritted teeth. “This town- nobody looks me in the eye anymore.”

“Ah…” Mothra blinked. “I see.” It seemed like Boone didn’t trust the residents of Novac for some reason, but passers-through were perfectly fine. She wondered why. “What is it that you’re wanting?”

“I need you to find something out for me.” Boone elaborated. “I don’t know if they’re anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew where to come, when to come, and what route to take, and they _only_ took Carla… someone set it up. I don’t know who.”

“Oh…” Mothra brought her hands up over her mandibles. “I’m… so _sorry._ ” She swallowed, having seen the brutality of the group firsthand. Being a slave in that sort of environment… she couldn’t imagine it. “I’ll find your wife-“

“My wife is _dead_.” Boone spat, clenching his fist. “I want the son of a bitch who sold her.”

“…yes.” Mothra blinked, looking at him compassionately. It was clear that _whatever_ gave him that idea… he was absolute in his conviction that it was real, and the truth. “…I’ll help you, Mr. Boone.” She decided. She wasn’t normally an advocate for frontier justice of any sort, but… the small _sliver_ of what she’d seen the Legion do was enough to immediately make her hate them. And if there was someone who conspired with them to sell a woman into slavery…

She’d find them. And bring them to justice. Gone for the moment was New Testament God, Old Testament God was back for a few rounds.

“When I find this person, what do you expect me to do with them?” Mothra inquired.

“I noticed you glow, can you do that on-command?”

Mothra nodded.

“Then bring him out to the front of the dinosaur.” Boone ordered. “Light yourself up, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Very well.” Mothra acquiesced.

“Good.” Boone nodded. “And one more thing… we shouldn’t speak again. Not until it’s over. No one in town knows that _I_ know what happened to my wife… I want to keep it that way. Else the Legion will be after me next.”

“I understand.” Mothra turned to exit. “I’ll be back soon with proof, I swear it.”

“Yeah.” Boone muttered, going back on duty.

\-----------

Kong moved along slowly, his eyes adjusting well to the low light of Novac. He walked down the street, finding a house with a fenced off area, two-headed cows inside and sleeping.

That must’ve been the place… wasn’t much of a ‘ranch’ though.

Kong slowly moved into the pen, looking over one of the dead.

Yep… bullets. Wonder why.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” A voice snarled, as an enormous, hulking humanoid the size of himself appeared out of thin air.

Kong, surprised, leapt back, as the towering grey Chupacabra opened fire with the minigun in his hands.

Kong roared, leaping forward while the strange beast reloaded, knocking the gun out of his hands.

The Chupacabra screamed at Kong in a rage, winding up to punch the giant ape.

Kong caught the fist, and the Chupacabra went to grab a giant, rocket-powered sledgehammer off his back. Kong grabbed on, yanking it out of his hands, before turning it back on its old owner, knocking his head off in a bloody mess.

Kong stood there, breathing heavily, as the bloodlust calmed, and he looked over the hulking, giant human.

What the _hell_ was it?

\------------

The door shut behind the trio, and immediately, they were met with a strange sight. Stranger than usual, I mean.

A giant humanoid, like a bodybuilder cranked up to eleven with grey skin, lay on the ground, dead, with a ghoul wearing robes next to it.

“Holy crap…” Rodan blinked. “I didn’t know this place had the Incredible Hulk.”

“Hulk’s green.” Rex refuted.

“Not in his earliest appearances.” Rodan retorted, as Godzilla leaned down to examine the corpse.

Godzilla reached out to touch it, only for the tell-tale whine and crackle of a speaker to startle him.

 _“Hey!”_ A scratchy, gravely voice commanded, causing them an even greater startle. _“Over here! Are you listening?”_

“Jesus tittyfucking-“ Godzilla clutched his chest in surprise. “Of course we’re listening, you turned to goddamn subwoofers on!”

 _“Go to the big room on the east side of the building and take the metal stairs all the way up.”_ The voice ordered. _“And hurry.”_

Godzilla scowled. “Look, buddy, we just came here to deal with a ghoul problem, and-“ The speakers clicked before they went inactive. “Son of a bitch… he hung up on me!”

Rodan harumphed. “Can’t imagine why.”

“Rodan?” Godzilla turned to him.

“Yeah?” Rodan replied.

“Did I give you permission to open your fat beak?”

“N-No.”

“Then shut the fuck up.” Godzilla ordered, moving along. “Right, east side of the building… should be easy.”

Easier _said_ than done. There ghouls all around every corner of the place, ready to jump them, _and_ to make matters worse, the building was like one enormous maze. Evidently, the pre-war America was so paranoid about corporate espionage or their employees realizing there was something better that they designed the offices to confuse and trap people. It just… didn’t make sense.

Actually, maybe it did. The exterior of the place _did_ look like Hawkins Lab. That’d explain the mindsets of the designers _well_ enough.

He wondered what El made of it. He wasn’t a spiteful person, but he knew the others were probably watching them back home, and if that was the case, he hoped El realized what consequences her actions had.

Eventually, they _finally_ made it to the room, after getting turned around, looting multiple vending machines, and killing some more ghouls.

It was like a vertical assembly building, but much smaller, at the top was a metal room, leading to the door. Making it there without further incident, Godzilla knocked on the door.

 _“All right, I’m opening the door. No_ funny _business, got that?”_ The Voice ordered, the lock on the other side clicking.

Godzilla pushed through, coming into another section of offices, with quite… worrying sights in the background.

“AAH!” Rex screamed, charging his spines, moving forward to rescue the lone human there. “Ghouls! I’ll save you!”

“What the hell are you doing!?” The balding man bellowed, revealing himself to be the intercom voice’s owner. “I said no funny business!”

“They’re ghouls, though!” Rex replied.

“Oh, look what we have here, a racist!” The man scowled. “You have something against ghouls, do you!? I didn’t _have_ to let you up here out of the kindness of my rotting heart! Get upstairs and talk to Jason! Unless you’re too _good_ for that!”

The trio looked at each other, confused, before Godzilla pulled Rex back. “Sorry, my friend’s just… jumpy. The only ghouls we’ve met so far are the kind that’s trying to hurt us.”

The scientist snorted. “Yeah, you and every other anti-ghoul smoothskin in the wasteland. Get upstairs and talk to Jason… racists.” He glared, before walking off.

“…Something tells me we haven’t made a good first impression.” Rodan commented, watching as a ghoul, very obviously _not_ trying to hurt them, walk past, dressed as a normal human would be.

“Maybe we can fix that.” Godzilla said. “Although, this is good… maybe we can take a diplomatic solution. I don’t want to exterminate these guys just because they’re in the way.” He took charge once more, walking up the steps to the upper level of these rocket design offices.

Inside, there was a ghoul dressed in an old, worn suit. He was similar to the very first one they’d seen, the dead one, in that his skin glowed with green light, giving off the radiation that was Godzilla’s lifeblood.

The suited ghoul noticed their approach and turned around to greet them. “Hello wanderer,” Jason greeted, speaking with an odd, ethereally echoing voice, “Please forgive our humble surroundings. Our true home awaits us in the Far Beyond. Have you come to help us complete the Great Journey?”

Godzilla blinked. “Uh…”

Rex frowned. “Um…”

Rodan coughed. “Great, cultists. Like that’s not in every video game ever.”

Godzilla smacked him down. “Terribly sorry, my good man.” He apologized as Rodan got back up, shaking his head. “Great Journey… I can’t say I’m familiar with that. I assume you’re the one in charge here?”

The glowing one nodded. “I am Jason Bright. Prophet of the Great Journey. All the ghouls you see here are members of my flock.”

“Godzilla,” He gestured to himself, “King of the Monsters.”

“Last name’s Bright…” Rodan mumbled. “Boy, you _really_ got creative picking that one out, didn’t you?”

Jason looked to him, “An auspicious name, don't you think? It was mine before I became as I am now. Before the Great War, even.” He took in a philosophical breath. “Truly does the creator author a destiny for each and every one of us...”

“Um… yeah.” Godzilla coughed. He knew Mothra, and of all things, planning was absolutely _not_ her area of expertise. “You mentioned a Great Journey?” He recalled. Hopefully, by getting to know them better, he could figure out the best way to get them to leave diplomatically. “Would you be willing to tell me about that.”

“Certainly.” Jason kindly smiled. “I always have time to relay the tale. We wish to escape the barbarity of the wasteland, especially the violence and bigotry of its human inhabitants. The creator has promised to my flock a new land: a place of safety and healing... a paradise in the Far Beyond. Preparations for the Great Journey were nearly complete when the demons appeared.”

“Demons?” Rex frowned.

Jason nodded, crossing his arms. “The demons appeared from nowhere... except it might be more accurate to say they never actually ‘appeared’ at all.” He shrugged. “The demons are invisible. Where one of them stands, the most one sees is the air shimmering, like sunlight on water...” His gaze became unfocused, distant, tinged with recollection in pain. “They set upon us as we were on our way to worship one morning. We had just entered the basement. My flock fought bravely, and killed a few, but at such cost. Nearly half of us died or went missing. The rest of us retreated up here. One of the demons raved at us, but they have not tried to attack us since.” He sighed, obviously filled with pain at losing a great deal of his followers. “Still, their demonic presence brought all progress towards the Great Journey to a standstill. But now you have come. Once again, the creator has sent an outsider to help us across a seemingly insurmountable obstacle.”

“Right…” Godzilla slowly nodded. Jason was assuming he already wanted to help, but he still had questions. “What’s this ‘Far Beyond’ you want to get to?”

“I have glimpsed it only in visions, wanderer, but what I have seen is truly miraculous.” Jason breathed with an awed smile. “It is a place of light and healing, and I know in my soul that my flock will be safe there.”

“Yeah, speaking of light…” Godzilla gestured to him. “I notice that the other ghouls don’t seem to glow like you do, what is that? Is it because of your age?”

Jason chuckled, “No, wanderer… you know very little of our kind, it seems. Ghouls are children of the atom, born in the invisible glow of radiation. But it is also our lifeblood. Our bodies absorb it, use it, to heal from all wounds great and small. Members of our kind, such as myself, were blessed with the gift to emit it from our bodies… at the cost of further scorn from humans.”

Godzilla straightened up. Forgive him for being paranoid, but that sounded a _lot_ like what he himself was able to do. “Really… how’s that possible?”

“I don’t know, I’m afraid.” Jason regretfully shrugged. “All I am aware is that before the War, no ghouls existed… and then we numbered as many as some ethnicities of humans. It was a chaotic birth, surrounded by strife and death and fire and screams… perhaps that is why we appear as we are to you now. We are those who the world around us said were _meant_ to die, but the creator had other designs.”

Godzilla crinkled his nose in doubt. Mothra likely wouldn’t see these guys as something to be kept around, more like diseased humans needing to be cured. Not a slight against her, but if Ghouls were meant to exist, Mothra would’ve made things to where they _could_.

“Well, that’s a funny coincidence.” Godzilla shrugged, finally deciding to speak up on the matter. “I can do something similar.”

“I see.” Jason looked Godzilla over with newfound curiosity. “Are you a species of ghoulified Deathclaw, or some other creature?”

“Nah, I’m unique.” Godzilla replied. “There’s never been anything like me.”

Rex coughed.

“Shut up, Rex.”

“Well then, wanderer,” Jason addressed, “Would you be willing to assist us to get the Great Journey moving again?”

“Sure I can.” Godzilla nodded. “But, you’ve gotta do something for me. The town of Novac need the scrap from this place so they can stay a stable town. If I help with your demons, will you leave?”

“Certainly, wanderer,” Jason bowed slightly, “Preparations for the Journey were almost complete when the demons beset us. Once they are gone, we should be ready to leave in but a few days.”

“Great.” Godzilla grinned. “I’ll be back, and the basement will be free of demons faster than you can blink.”

“Praise the creator.” Jason shook Godzilla’s hand, passing him the basement key. “Bless you, wanderer! Bless us all!” Jason exalted as Godzilla led the other two back out, down the steps.

“…dude, this is _nuts_.” Rodan commented, as they walked down to the basement.

“…oddly enough, not the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.” Godzilla grunted, walking down the steps to the locked door.

“Really?” Rex tilted his head. “Then what _was_ the weirdest?”

“Well, there was that time El, Maddie, and I all got fused into one singular super-being but because there was two of them and only one of me we all wound up looking like her and we had to sing a lullaby to a kaiju to get it to stop rampaging.” Godzilla recalled, sniffing the air. “I still don’t feel right after that.”

“…no, no, that didn’t happen.” Rodan called him out.

“How do _you_ know, mister I sleep in my volcano all day?”

“Because even for Because even for _you,_ that’s too much of a stretch.” Rodan crossed his arms as Godzilla unlocked the basement door, pushing in. “I mean, the three of you combining, that’s plausible. It’s the lullaby that’s too out of character.”

“Psh, I can be gentle when I need to.” Godzilla replied, taking the lead into the basement. “All right, everyone, be on your guard.” He advised, taking the lead. To the left, were some short corridors and what appeared to be a dead-end room. To the right, the corridor extended far into the distance.

Deciding to take the left first, Godzilla walked down the first branching corridor, his weapon at the ready, as he turned the circular mechanism to open the sliding door.

On the other side, there was a tall (almost as tall as _him_ ) grey human, like the one near the entrance to the building, and he was… talking. To a bull skull.

…every second, this place got weirder and weirder.

“What was that, Antler?” Big Grey looked to the skull, speaking in a rough, harsh voice, seemingly not noticing the arrival of the monsters, who were looking upon him with confusion. “We have visitors? Hm…”

He looked up to the monsters, scowling.

“Assassins, more like!” His grey features twisted in rage. “I say kill it, Antler, for safe’s sake! Hmm?” He turned back to the skull. “Okay… I’ll ask. Uhh, hi, deathclaw! Why you come here?”

“Uhh…” Godzilla lowered his weapon, looking to his followers bemusedly. This guy was off his rocker, talking to a skull… then again, if he had enough mental faculties to speak, the diplomatic option was still on the table. “I’m here because of the ghouls upstairs.” He answered. “They need to get back down into this basement, it’s pretty important.”

“You mean the ones upstairs. Antler used intercom, told them stay put. But they want to come down in basement anyways?” The grey humanoid shook his head. “I cannot allow. My kin are... not right in head like I am. They attack you on sight. Ghouls too. They crazy. Your ghoul friends have to wait until you find what Antler brought us to get.”

“Wait, hold on!” Rodan spoke up. “Until _we_ find it!? We didn’t agree to shit!”

Godzilla held up his hand. “What my friend here is _trying_ to say… is that we have no clue what you’re here for or where to find it.”

The enormous man snorted. “Antler brought us here for a reason... Why was that, Antler?” He asked of the skull, “Right!” He suddenly turned back to face them, “A piece of paper. Shipment invoice. Hundreds of Stealth Boys, sent here a long time ago... But Stealth Boys must be in the one room one we don't search yet - the one we _can't_ search.”

Godzilla tilted his head, crossing his arms. “Why can’t you search it yourselves?”

“A ghoul. But not squishy like others. This ghoul is tough.” The strange mutant growled. “I thought Antler said send my kin into that room, but three died. Ghoul is a crack shot and set traps too. After, I realize I heard Antler wrong. So I lock the door to keep kin out and wait for Antler to tell me what to do. Then you come along. Antler says you are solution.”

“Ah… that… makes sense.” Godzilla blinked. The big grey-blue human didn’t want to send his own people in and lose more of them, so he’ll send in strangers, and it’s no skin off his teeth if the party dies. “All right,” Godzilla nodded, “I’ll get you your… ‘stealth boys’ _if_ you leave this place after, is that a deal?”

“Yes, Antler says we leave here as soon as we get Stealth Boys.” He went searching around in his pack, pulling out a small key that he tossed over their way. “Let me give you key. Antler had me lock the door. Out and to right. The ghoul inside not expecting a deathclaw. Maybe he don't shoot you. …he probably will.”

“Knowing our luck so far…” Godzilla sighed, taking the key. “Probably.” He turned to his followers, gesturing for them to follow.

“So…” Rex began. “We came here to clear out ghouls, now we’re helping them, and a big, dumb grey bodybuilder. I didn’t sign on for this!”

“Neither did I.” Godzilla said, following the directions to the door. He slid the key in, effortlessly unlocking it, “But-“ He took a step, and his vision went a starry white as pain exploded in his head. “OW!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him!” Rex charged up, letting out a blast of atomic breath at the ghoul dressed in a military uniform on the catwalk above. The ghoul stumbled back, his chest being blown open, before he fell off the catwalk entirely, hitting the hard concrete below.

“You know, I’m starting to feel _real_ naked without any sort of weapons here.” Rodan dryly remarked.

“Ow…” Godzilla shook off the pain, looking to the dead ghoul. “Oh, shit… Jason’s not gonna be happy about that guy.”

“Whatever, we’ve got the room cleared.” Rodan shrugged.

“Well, make yourself useful.” Godzilla ordered. “Go up top and look for those stealth boys.”

“Never mind that I don’t know what one of those _is_?”

“You were _just_ complaining about being useless.” Godzilla retorted.

“…I said I felt naked without a weapon.” Rodan blinked, nevertheless taking flight.

“You can make _fire,_ how is that being without a weapon?” Godzilla asked, looking around.

Rodan shook his head, but regardless, went to go search the upper level.

There was zero indicator of any ‘stealth boys’ no boxes, no labels, not even a few of the devices laying around freely… at least, that’s what Rodan and the others assumed. They didn’t know what the damn things looked like.

Finally, Rodan decided to look on the terminal. He fumbled for a bit, navigating for the computer, but eventually found the evidence they were looking for.

“Hey!” He called down to Godzilla. “The Stealth Boys were sent here by mistake, looks like! They sent them somewhere else!”

“Somewhere else?” Godzilla frowned. “Still… we got him what he wanted. All right, let’s head back.”

Walking back to the mutant, he noticed them enter immediately, turning around to greet them with a snarl.

“Antler sings for Stealth Boys. Have you found them?” The mutant demanded.

“There’s no shipment of stealth boys in this building.” Godzilla informed.

The mutant’s face twisted with rage. “Liar!” He accused, “The invoice said Stealth Boys here! Antler read it out loud to me!”

“There _was_ a shipment,” Godzilla nodded, “ _But_ it was sent here by mistake. So, the guys here sent them back.”

“But invoice note said Stealth Boys were here! Why can't that note be true?” The mutant lamented. “What, Antler? ...But deathclaw could be lying! Stealing the Stealth Boys for itself! Oh, Antler... You trust so easy... Your lucky day, deathclaw. Antler believe you. Nightkin will follow the new note to find Stealth Boys. Better be there.” He pointed.

That was all they were going to get as a farewell, as the mutant began to march out, leading similar figures up from the basement, out from the facility.

“All right,” Godzilla turned to his charges, “Let’s go tell Jason the basement’s clear.”

“Right, and then be prepared to follow him right back down.” Rodan grumbled. “I fucking hate backtracking.”

“Aw, come on, I’m sure it won’t be _that_ bad.” Rex replied.

\----------

Asking around about Boone’s wife didn’t give Mothra a great deal of confidence she’d be able to find the culprit. Even though it was dark, it was still early enough in the night that most people were still up, so she was able to ask around… for all the good that did her.

Not that nobody had anything to say, but the opposite. Everything had something to say about Carla Boone, and it was all bad.

_“Believe me. When I heard the news, my first thought was, I owe somebody. Big. I figured Boone would come around after a while.” Manny had said, causing Mothra a repulsed scowl. A woman had gone missing, quite possibly put into a living hell, and he was concerned about being able to party with his friend again? “But he hasn't. And I'm starting to think that if he doesn't find her that things will never go back to the way they were.”_

_Mothra bit back the urge to verbally slam Manny for his impertinence. “Do you know of anyone who’d want to hurt Boone’s wife?”_

_“Man, everybody. That girl didn't have one friend in this whole town. She didn't want any.” Manny shrugged. “She wanted to sit in her room all day and make herself miserable. And she went out of her way to be rude. She upset a lot of people. You wouldn't have liked her, either.”_

_Maybe not… that didn’t mean a woman deserved to be sold into slavery._

_The next person she asked after that were the other two NCR folks who called the place home._

_The first was that retired Ranger, Andy._

_“Carla was a knockout. Whenever Boone walked around with her, he always had this funny grin on his face like he couldn't believe his luck.” The aged man reflected with a melancholy smile. “I know_ we _couldn't. That wasn't the only reason she stuck out, though. That girl never minced words. If she'd had better food or hospitality, she'd let you hear it.” He shook his head, “Trouble was, she usually had. I don't think she meant it. She really was a sweet girl. I think she just wanted to remind herself that there are still nicer places in this world than Novac. Who could blame her for that?”_

_“Better places than Novac?” Mothra repeated. “Was she in a hurry to leave?”_

_“I wouldn’t describe it as a_ hurry, _” The good Ranger corrected, “But she was_ definitely _itching to leave. You can’t fault her, really. Novac’s so small and barely hanging on as it is, once the scrap up at REPCONN runs out, that’s it. Novac’s done. I suppose she wanted to get out before that happened… she just wasn’t very tactful about it.”_

_Mothra nodded, slowly making a note of it. Carla sounded like she was stepping on toes, inadvertently badmouthing the town, trying to get out._

_The second NCR person she talked to was an ex-marine (why did the NCR have marines? They couldn’t fight overseas.) named Mike._

_“Yeah…” Mike took a long breath. “I won’t mince words, she was kinda a bitch. Really though, she’d only get_ especially _bitchy if you made her that way first.”_

_“Really…” Mothra crossed her arms. “And what made her that way?”_

_“I remember Jeannie May used to go on and_ on _with her.” Mike recalled. “Like Carla_ owed _her personally for being allowed to stay in the room. Never mind that they_ paid _their rent and all that.”_

_“’Owed?’” Mothra questioned. “How so?”_

_“Well, Jeannie May wasn’t trying to get her to do housework if that’s what you mean,” Mike began, “But whenever Carla would start going on about how she and Boone needed to get out before the town went bust, Jeannie took it as an insult, tried to shut Carla up in all sorts of ways. She never was very good with criticism against Novac, even the honest kind.”_

_“But…” Mothra blinked. “Why?”_

_“I don’t know.” Mike admitted with a shrug. “Guess she just doesn’t like people talking bad about her home.”_

_After that, there was one last person she talked to. Not Jeannie May, no, but the local crackpot, Noonan. The thing about crackpots, is that they usually don’t have anything to hide. They’ll go on wacky, perhaps incomprehensible tangents, but if you ask, they usually tend to share._

_And, as Kong relayed, he’d been out searching for a giant gecko… he might’ve seen something the night Boone’s wife was taken as well._

_And fortunately for Mothra… he had._

_“Seen it all!” Noonan readily admitted. “Seen shadowy folk come to his room and leave again in the middle of the night. Thought one might've gone in the lobby, too, for a spell…” He muttered, rubbing his beard, and Mothra felt a pang of fury stab at her heart. “Could be that person went in to get something. Or use the john maybe. Mighty interesting either way, you ask me. I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all for sure, so I kept out of sight. But now I know better.”_

_“…I see.” It was all adding up to make for a disturbing conclusion. “Thank you, Mr. Noonan.”_

Now, all that was left for Mothra to do was find _proof_. Jeannie May had gone home for the night, so that meant if there was any incriminating evidence in the lobby, it’d be unattended.

Mothra walked in, looking around, before she found it behind the counter, sitting in the floor. A safe, well-weathered but still looking like it held up.

Mothra’s mandibles flared out in a scowl, before she brought her arm down like a hammer, puncturing the safe, and damn near ripping the door off. The metal crunched and warped like it was nothing but mere tin under Mothra’s strength, and she pulled it apart, looking inside.

Inside, was a small slip of paper. Marked Bill of Sale.

It could have just been a receipt from a normal trade, but… Mothra had to know. And so, she began to read it.

_‘We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from Jeannie May Crawford of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to ownership and sale of the slave Carla Boone for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, and those of her unborn child for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged. We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, and slaves for life. We covenant with the said, Jeannie May Crawford, that we have full power to bargain and sell said slave and her offspring. Payment of an additional five hundred bottle caps will be due pending successful maturation of the fetus, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al._

_Administrators of M. Licinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulato”_

Mothra’s eyes shifted from her calm blue to a blazing red, as the Bill of Sale caught fire in her grasp. It was the most disgusting, repulsive note she’d ever read…

Jeannie May was going to _die_ for being a part of it.

And while Boone wanted revenge…

Mothra was going to make it _hurt_.

\-----------

Godzilla was gonna beat the crap out of Rex for jinxing it. The moment they got back up, it was, what else? Back down to the basement again, yippee!

In all seriousness, the trek back down wasn’t _that_ bad since all the hostile creatures were cleared out, just a walk down to an underground storage/hangar facility. Three rocket ships, like something out of _Flash Gordon_ sat inactive on plinth-like clamps, their engines angled towards the ground at a 45-degree angle.

When the trio got down to the control room overlooking the place, Jason was there, waiting for them.

“I waited to speak with you one last time before I descended to the launch pad, wanderer.” Jason said upon Godzilla crossing into the control room. “I want you to know that we will remember for all eternity how you delivered us to the threshold of the Great Journey. Our preparations are nearly complete, but the rockets that will carry us to salvation are yet missing vital components. If you would still help us, wanderer, speak to Chris. He can tell you what is missing. There is no way that we can thank you enough, wanderer. Your arrival here was a blessing. We will remember you always.” He bowed, turning away

“Great, more fetch-quests.” Rodan mumbled, as Jason looked out to the floor with the rockets. “Why are we even helping these guys?”

“Well, we can’t _kill_ them.” Godzilla replied. “I’m a lot of things, but genocide’s a bit much, even for me.” He said as he walked back over to the balding man who was seeing off the final guidance checks for the rockets. “Chris.”

“Hm.” Chris grumblingly replied. "Jason says that I am to cooperate with you on the final tasks necessary to launch the Great Journey.”

“I’m ready and willing to help,” Godzilla threw his arms out in a gesture of cooperation, “What do you need?”

“I was close to completing work on the rockets before we were driven into hiding on the top floor.” The man began in explanation. “Two components were missing: a quantity of Isotope-239 igniting agent, and a set of thrust control modules. The igniting agent is highly radioactive, and decays quickly. That's why we can't use the drums that leaked down on the launch pad. It's no longer potent enough. I need you to find an _intact_ , shielded container of the igniting agent.”

“Hm…” Godzilla rubbed his chin. “That shouldn’t be _too_ much of a problem. I’m good at sniffing out radioactive materials. “All I need is a tiny sample and I can sniff it out like a hound dog.”

“Terrific.” Chris rasped. “As for the thrust control modules, they were custom-built for these rockets. They won't even launch without them.”

“Ah… and they’re not in this facility, I’m betting?” Godzilla inquired.

“Of course they’re not.” Chris hissed. “I wouldn’t be _asking you to get them_ if they were.”

“Right, stupid me.” Godzilla muttered. “So, what do you suggest we do for each one?”

Chris crossed his arms. “Those smoothskins up the street picked this place apart for everything it was worth. The thrust control modules probably wound up with a scrap merchant somewhere, so I’d start with any scrapyards you might know. As for the igniting agent… I recall reading something in here that they had a storeroom filled with toy rocket souvenirs filled with the stuff in the old days. They’re not here anymore.”

“Wait, toy rockets filled with radioactive liquid!?” Godzilla’s jaw dropped.

“Pre-War America were fucking morons.” Chris grunted. “Now, go.” He ordered, “And don’t come back until you find it!”

“All right,” Godzilla turned to his followers, “Let’s go.”

\----------

“Well howdy again!” Cliff said in greeting as the trio strode into the gift shop again. He was either really dedicated to his work, or _really_ desperate to make any sort of sales to stay working after dark like this. “What can I do you for?”

“Hey Cliff,” Godzilla leaned on the counter, “I understand you have rocket souvenirs from REPCONN?”

“That’s right.” Cliff nodded enthusiastically. “Real deal too, no knockoffs!”

“Great,” He sat two-hundred caps on the desk. “I want them. All of them.”

“R-Really?” Cliff spluttered. “I never thought I'd see the day. I mean-“ He quickly corrected himself, “The day I'd part with them for such an incredibly low price! With so many other offers flooding in. But I like you. I think maybe it's time. All that's left is in this storage room here.” He pocketed the caps, stepping aside to allow Godzilla access. “Go ahead, take all of ‘em.”

Godzilla nodded, opening one of the pouches, and stashing every last souvenir he could fit into the bag, sealing it back up. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Cliff replied, happy as happy can be that he finally managed to offload those things.

“Right.” Godzilla guided the others out of the store, leading them down the main street, as Mothra went barreling past them, glowing red. “Huh… wonder what’s gotten into her?” He shrugged, shaking his head. “Right, scrapyard… this way.”

\----------

Mothra followed Jeannie May’s scent to a house just past the road going down to the local scrapyard. As Godzilla and the others passed her by, she knocked on the door, barely managing to contain her fury.

The door opened, and Jeannie May looked at her kindly. “Well, hi there, friend. What brings you around to my house.”

Mothra barely managed to keep from striking her down then and there, a woman who’d done such repugnant things acting completely innocent.

“There’s something afoot at the hotel.” Mothra told her. “I managed to stop it, but the culprit’s out near the dinosaur statue.” She evenly stated. “He wishes to speak with you.”

“With me?” Jeannie May tilted her head in confusion. “Whatever for?”

“He was insistent.” Mothra pulsed with power. “He is restrained, but I cannot say for certain how long that will remain the case.”

“All right then.” Jeannie May stepped out. “Lead the way.”

\-----------

The scrapyard, fortunately, was nowhere near as far away from Novac as REPCONN was. An _actual_ ten to twenty-minute walk down the road. Outside, still using the last bit of energy she still had from the day to continue on, there was an old woman, packing up some stuff to take inside to finish up. It was likely she was just getting ready to finish selling for the day, but Godzilla needed those parts _now_.

The monster cleared his throat, hoping word spread throughout town and the surprising areas fast enough for her to have been brought up to speed.

Fortunately enough, it seemed that it did, as she turned around, and although she looked startled for just a moment, peppiness took it over.

“Hi there!” The old woman happily greeted. “I'm Old Lady Gibson, or so they tell me. I've got odds and ends for sale, and I'm pretty good at fixing things, too. You might have noticed the very large building just north of here.” She gestured with her thumb to a small building in the distance, like a VAB surrounded by solar panels and a glass globe on the top. “That's HELIOS One. The NCR runs the place, so it's off-limits to prospectors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” Godzilla filed away. Sounded like she was trying to warn him to stay away from it without badmouthing the NCR. Fair enough, but he couldn’t care less about HELIOS One, he was there for the ghouls’ electronics. “I’m looking for thrust control modules from REPCONN. I need three. Do you have some?”

“As it so happens, I do have some thrust modules,” Gibson nodded, placing her hands on her hips, “But they're expensive. 500 caps worth of expensive.”

“Hm…” Godzilla looked to the bag where he put the caps. Four-hundred… he might be able to barter, but that was _after_ he sold off everything he could afford to. If he bought the modules at full-price, they’d be in dire straits until they killed and pilfered some more bad guys. It was time to get creative, he supposed. Maddie, forgive him for what he was about to do. “Say, beautiful woman like yourself must get awfully lonely out here… I’m sure we can work out a trade and I can show you what ‘thrust control’ _really_ means.”

Gibson laughed, shaking her head. “I know I'm not young and pretty any more, but I appreciate the thought all the same.” She smiled, unlocking the gate into the scrapyard. “Here, take the parts, you flatterer. They’re under T.”

“Ah, right,” Godzilla coughed, “Thanks. I meant it, by the way, love your hair.” He pointed, before leading the others back.

Walking back threw the aisles of junk, they saw all sorts of junk weapons, electronic components that had been yanked out, rusted out hulks of cars, and all sorts of old knick knacks. Eventually, they made it to what _appeared_ to be the T section.

“Ah, look, see?” Rodan pointed to the old and rickety wooden blue box standing in a small alcove. “T for Telephone Box.”

“Yeah, _or,”_ Rex argued, “P for Police Box… what is a Police Box? Do police come in boxes?”

“Depends on the definition of ‘come’ and ‘box.’” Rodan laughed, thinking himself the funniest being on the planet in that moment.

“Oh, look, here’re the modules.” Godzilla took the three, metal components, placing them in the bag, “Right, let’s-“

The box’s lights turned on of their own accord, as the phone began to ring.

Rex yelped, jumping behind Rodan. “Jesus!”

“Uh…” Rodan blinked, pointing at the Police Box. “Is that… supposed to be happening?”

“Given that it’s probably not hooked up and even if it was, all the phones are busted, probably not.” Godzilla slowly approached it.

“…are you going to pick it up?” Rodan inquired.

“…yep.” Godzilla used a single claw to open the tiny little cubbyhole door taking the phone off the hook, carefully bringing the comically-small handset up to his head. “Yello?”

 _“G,”_ Maddie, _his_ Maddie, replied through gritted teeth. El must’ve been allowing them to communicate, as she did when _he_ was stuck in the upside down during that initial stint. _“Flirt with anyone like that again, and you’re sleeping in the doghouse. I’m watching you.”_ She ominously replied, before the line, and the lights on the box, went dead.

Godzilla blankly blinked, before placing the phone back, closing the door.

“…Who was it?” Rex inquired.

“…telemarketers.”

\----------

Mothra hovered furiously alongside Jeannie May as she led her out to the intersection in front of the dino statue. Mothra flew on just ahead, lighting up green as Jeannie May caught up.

“Well, here we are,” Jeannie May came to a stop, looking to Mothra curiously, “I don’t see-“

The old woman’s head exploded in a shower of blood and viscera, the remains of her body falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

While the entire thing lasted only a second from the outside perspective, the moment Mothra heard the bang, she slowed Jeannie May’s perception of the event down so she’d feel the bullet tearing into her, pushing apart her flesh, before her head slipped apart.

She was conscious for her own death. Able to feel every cell being torn apart and dying.

A fitting punishment, in Mothra’s mind, for selling off someone who wasn’t conscious enough to fight back.

With the Bill of Sale half-charred in her grasp, Mothra went back around to get to the top of the dinosaur.

At lease Boone got his peace.

\----------

“All right, Chris,” Godzilla approached, passing him the control modules, and dumping out the rocket toys. “This should be everything. You guys can get started on this pilgrimage of yours, right?”

“Hm…” Chris looked over it all with a scrutinizing eye, before nodding. “Yes, that's everything. I'll tell Jason the rockets are ready. It's time to get this over with.” He began walking over to the intercom. “Get up to the observation platform. Go back to the big metal room, and when you get to the room up top, take a left and go through that door.”

Godzilla blinked, holding up his hands. “Now, hold on, I-“

“We need someone down here to initiate the launch sequence.” Chris growled. “You do that from the observation platform, now go!”

“Fine,” Godzilla grumbled, turning around, “Dick.”

“Hey, Jason, the rockets are ready!” Chris spoke into the intercom. “The Great Journey can begin! …what? What do you mean I can’t come along!?”

As the trio walked back through the corridors of the facility, back up through the basement, and through the offices, the intercoms crackled and whined, as Jason’s voice filtered out.

 _“Gather, all. May the creator guide my words and help me speak true…”_ Jason began, like a sermon. _“The almighty creator has seen fit to answer our prayers. The time has come for us to board the rockets and begin the Great Journey. Though it may seem that all humans despise us, the creator has seen fit to instruct us differently. The Journey ahead would have been impossible if not for the intercession of a human friend, our long-abiding companion. To our new outsider friend, the King of the Monsters, we say thanks, and promise never to forget how he cleared from our path the demons who sought to stay our Journey. But to Chris, we owe more than thanks.”_ Jason’s tone took a solemn turn. “ _Chris, you have made this Great Journey a reality. From this moment forward, you will be remembered as the Saint of the Great Journey. We shall never forget you. I ask that you forgive us, Chris, and give us your blessing, and we bestow ours upon you. Seekers, board the rockets, take your seats. The Great Journey awaits! To the promised land we go! To the Far Beyond!”_

“Wow…” Godzilla breathed, looking out upon the vast, expansive Mojave Wasteland, and the launch dome slap in the middle of a rock wall. “Some view, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Rex nodded, “Just wish we could’ve done this during the day.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Godzilla walked over to the control console. “Destiny waits for no one.” He frowned, looking it over. It looked like the rockets’ navigational computer, with a course plotted out and everything. He wasn’t an expert with trajectories and all that, so he wisely left it alone, turning to the small lever on its own console overlooking the launch pad, and the blinking light next to it. “All right, they’re giving the green light, so…”

Godzilla reached out, pulling down the lever, and immediately, the speakers flared to life, belting out music.

“Wait, is that Ride of the Valkyries?” Rodan looked up. “Hm… would’ve picked Magic Carpet Ride myself.”

Klaxons sounded as the rocket dome opened, the rockets rising up to a stop, pointed away from the facility towards the vast, empty sky. The smoking engines ignited, each one like a miniature star, before the clamps released, allowing the three rockets to shoot into the sky, faster than any plane or car in existence.

“Yeah!” Godzilla clapped, whooping. “Godspeed you magnificent bastards!” He cheered. “Whoo! Oh…” He came down from it with a smile. Having never had the privilege to see a rocket launch in his lifetime, let alone one _in-person_ , it was an exhilarating event.

“So,” Rex looked to him, “Does that mean Manny will tell us what we need to know?”

“Probably,” Godzilla shrugged, “If he doesn’t, I can make him squeal, no problem.” He cracked his knuckles. He didn’t even have to lay fingers on Manny, just growl. “Come on, let’s get back to Novac. It’s starting to get pretty late and I wanna get this done so we can sleep.”

Rodan huffed, shaking his head as he followed Godzilla.

Nice to see Godzilla had his priorities straight.

\-----------

“…that’s it then.” Boone spoke, turning around the moment Mothra closed the door. She didn’t know how he knew it was her, but she supposed that it was because no one else came up on the regular to talk to him… rather sad, actually. “How did you know it was her?”

Mothra’s mandibles flared out in rage, as she handed him the Bill of Sale. “I found _this_ in the hotel lobby. Add in that Jeannie seemed obsessively protective against people badmouthing Novac, and your wife’s drive to get away… it wasn’t too far a leap to make.”

Boone took it, reading it over. His hand shook with rage, crumpling it up in sheer fury. “ _Goddamn_ it.” He spat off the dinosaur onto Jeannie May’s corpse. After that, he just sighed, like without a target, he had no purpose being angry. “I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork. Here,” He handed Mothra fifty caps in gratitude, including, of all things, an NCR beret. Not the First Recon beret he was wearing on his head, but a wholly different item. Still, Mothra was flattered by the gesture… even if she didn’t do it for reward. Punishing the wicked, that was reward enough for her. “This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here.”

Mothra slowly nodded. “What will you do after this, Mister Boone?”

Boone’s eyebrows shot up, like he didn’t truly expect her to care. That wasn’t fair… Mothra was compassionate to all humans, unless they’d crossed the line. “I… don't know. I won't be staying, I know that. Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries.” He huffed, the corners of his mouth tilting up _only_ slightly. So minutely, Mothra wasn’t even sure it had _happened._ “Maybe I'll wander, like you.”

“Why don’t you stay here?” Mothra suggested. “The town still needs it’s night watch.”

“No, it won’t.” Boone refuted. “First camp I take out… It’ll be Nelson.”

“Nelson is a… full settlement,” Mothra frowned, based on what _she’d_ heard, a full town. How the hell was he going to take it down? “How the hell are you going to take it down?”

“Don’t know - doesn’t matter.” Boone shortly replied. “Heading to them first is better than letting them come to me.”

“…I see.” The man seemed almost _determined_ to die. But, she couldn’t talk him out of it, it seemed. “Well then, Mister Boone, I wish you not only luck, but success.” She reached out her arm.

Boone looked down at it warily, before picking up on what she wanted, shaking her hand. That moment, Mothra did something she’d never done before, and probably never would do again.

She gave him just a _little_ bit of her Life Essence, the force responsible for her divine abilities. Not enough to make him a god, or to harm herself, just a little sliver.

As long as the Legion stood, Boone would still breathe, still fight. The Spirit of Retribution for all the victims the Legion had ever inflicted trauma upon.

“Farewell, Mister Boone.” Mothra bowed. “May we meet again under better circumstanced.”

“Hmph.” Boone grumbled. “Yeah.”

\----------

Mothra walked back out to the front of the motel, across to the gas station where the car was parked. Climbing back in, she waited silently, still, waiting for her other companions to return.

About twenty minutes passed, before the hulking giant ape came back, half of his face covered in blood, with what looked like a rocket-powered sledgehammer on his back.

Kong sat down in the driver’s seat, looking ahead.

“Kong.” Mothra addressed politely.

Kong looked to her nonchalantly. “Lamp.”

“Is there a reason why you’re covered in blood?” She inquired.

“Chupacabra.” Kong huffed. “Dead now.”

“Ah, so, Noonan was right.” Mothra tilted her head. “…what _was_ that ‘Chupacabra?’”

“Big monster.” Kong grunted. “Machine gun.”

“I see…” Mothra looked to him. “And you chose the sledgehammer instead?”

Kong looked down at it like he was now sorely regretting his decision.

“Hey hey!” Rodan boisterously shouted as they suddenly came out of the darkness up to the car. “Guess whose been made saints of an entire religion!” He gestured to himself, Godzilla, and Rex.

“Well, guess who has _multiple_ religions founded in tribute to her?” Mothra sardonically tilted her head.

Rodan looked at her, unimpressed.

“Ahhh.” Godzilla yawned, “God _damn_ that was a lotta work.” He looked to Kong and Mothra. “What about you guys? I mean, obviously _something_ happened, Kong’s covered in menstruation.”

“Oh, you know, Kong killed a Chupacabra,” Mothra waved away, “I sat here, watching Victor, as you said.”

“Really?” Godzilla inquired.

“Indeed I did.”

“Uh-huh,” Godzilla crossed his arms, “So where’d he go?”

“…I’m sorry?” Mothra asked.

“Victor, where’d he go?” Godzilla jerked his head over in that direction. “He’s not out near the Dinky statue anymore. Where was he heading?”

“…oh, you know what, look at the time.” Mothra remarked, looking up at the moon. “We should get a room and turn in.”

“Uh-huh,” Godzilla deadpanned.

“Oh, I’ll go talk to Jeannie May-“ Rex began to volunteer.

“No!” Mothra cut him off. “She’s… turned in for the night as well. “I’m… sure we can talk to Cliff and get a room from him.”

Godzilla looked at her, dryly. “Yeah.”

\----------

“Oh my _God_.” Madison rubbed her face. “Mothra is an _idiot_.”

“The five of them are, yep.” Mads nodded. “Nice trick you did with that Police Box by the way.” Mads complimented El, grinning. “It was worth it, hearing his reaction.”

El bashfully shrugged. “Well… it was nothing. They’re taking their time, why not mess with them a little?”

“Jesus,” Maddie shook her head, “At the rate they’re going, it’s gonna be until the heat death of all reality before they get to Vegas.”

\---------

“OH MY GOD, I JUST HAD A WONDERFUL IDEA!” Jane squeaked, turning to her love with an excited look on her face.

“Oh, God, last time you got that look, you made a volcano erupt…” Gojira gulped. “Lay it on me.”

“Okay, so, I can affect the outside, that means I can effect their little ‘game’ too.” Jane reasoned quickly. “You know what that means?”

“...what?”

Jane rubbed her hands mischievously. “Noonan mentioned there was a giant gecko bigger than Dinky… let’s find it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here be my [Tumblr](https://d0ct0rp004ndtheturdis.tumblr.com/), yar!


End file.
